We were enjoying an edible but not amazing lunch at the weekend in one of those franchised Italian restaurants. The sun was shining but we enjoyed a little shade on the terrace. It was quiet – maybe because we chose to eat late. Or early. It was around 3 o’clock, the time according to Sartre when it is both too early and too late to do anything. I commented to the waitress that it was rather quiet, to which she replied “I suppose everyone is somewhere”.
Profound philosophy to have with my pasta. Alongside the parmesan cheese.
The only problem with existential philosophers is that they exist everywhere. Unlike the nihilist philosophers – you can never find one when you need one.