The B Line, with its simple furniture, jazzy soundtrack and well-dressed patrons, is just a little bit more serious, stylish and fast-paced than most other cafés in the Old Pueblo. If you squint, you just might think you're in a funky lunch joint in the City-in Chelsea maybe, or Tribeca. The wait staff whizzes your orders to the kitchen on wire pulleys (neat!) while you gaze out onto Fourth Avenue or read a copy of the Times that you bought at the counter. Shortly thereafter, your well-prepared, Southwestern-inflected meal arrives-perhaps gazpacho, or a blackened catfish burro. Yum. You could linger, but don't you have more important things to do?