The Coffee House

I'm in a local coffee shop. It has a really cool old wooden door with small panes of glass & a big heavy brass door handle. There's a sign on the outside of the door that politely asks that you park across the street if you are going to stay a while. That's where I parked my black motorcycle. It's a really large spot with art painted on the walls that border the back of it. It's also easier to get out of then trying to back up with oncoming traffic coming at you.

There are two middle-aged women sitting next to the object of my attention, but a space left just for me. They have all taken up residence on a chocolate colored cloth couch in the very back of the coffee house. I plop my backpack down next to hers, say hello, and take the empty space up on the couch. The two middle-aged women are chatting like parrots as she rises & asks what she can get me. I smile & request my usual as I notice the women are dressed much younger than they are in t-shirts & Capri pants. They both sport extremely short haircuts, with the blond woman's being a little more daring with a bit of hair gel used to spike it up a bit. It's obvious she likes attention. She shifts in her seat constantly & uses her hands to talk. The other woman, who has dyed black hair, is more timid. She seems a little uncomfortable, almost embarrassed by her friend's bravado. I hear tidbits about yoga instructors, work, etc.

For some reason the blonde woman feels compelled to loudly announce that she parked out front rather than parking in the lot across the street as the little sign on the door suggested. The other woman looks embarrassed & admits she did as well. They discuss whether they should move their vehicles. Of course, they have no intention of even attempting to move their vehicles. This stage play is all for my benefit. Well, me & my companion. These types of plays are the worst. If I wanted to see a melodramatic play put on by bad actors I'd go catch a middle school play. Although I think middle school kids are quite a bit better. On & on they go. I've never really grasped what this does for people. I guess it's a way to admit you've done something in order to escape being called out & shamed by it.

Suddenly, the dark-haired women gets up & announces she needs to visit the restroom. I think the blonde woman's loud admission has slightly embarrassed the other woman & she seeks the restroom as a refuge to gather herself. As she walks to the door marked Womens, the other one flamboyantly waves her arms around & shouts that she's going to check on the cars. Check on the cars? Really? They need checked on? So outside she goes. What a show. The silence lasts only about 30 seconds. Once the two are reunited, the show starts again. Funny, I came to get coffee, not for a show.

"No tickets or slashed tires!" shouts the blonde woman much louder than she needs to for her friend to hear her as she walks by me. Sigh...really? Slashed tires? Oh the drama! The darker haired woman smiles & tries to ignore her over-dramatization. They fall back into their gossipy conversation about other people. I over hear comments about a friend's snide remarks & concrete thinking & how she gives & gives but her friend never listens when she tries to talk about her problems & her life. Somehow, I doubt it.

You know, I don't like to talk about people. I didn't come in here with the intention of talking about people. I like to talk about other things. Things like the universe or what amazingly weird insect I discovered today, or why Crepe Myrtles are named Crepe Myrtles. I enjoy topics on volcanoes, or weather patterns, or Star Wars & it's influence on culture & society. Talking about people is so overrated & boring. It always seems to be negative as well. People that talk about other people never go around spouting about how wonderful other people are. You never over hear things like, "She's amazing! She always listens to me & is there when I need her. I can't imagine what I'd do without her.", or things like, "My husband spoils me. I am so lucky to have someone who understands me so deeply." Isn't that odd?

I find it even harder to block them out when I hear the word "Artist" froth from their rabid mouths. I'm an artist. People usually have very interesting things to say about artists. Damn, they've pulled me in. I continue writing in my little sketchbook, changing nothing, as if I don't hear them. Of course if they are transparent to me, I'm sure I am just as transparent in my act. They critique his art by viewing paintings the blonde has stored on her phone. First up for consideration is a painting of a woman. At least they think it's a woman. The blonde boasts that he is the top artist in the state & received thousands in scholarships. Oh, and he's dating someone she's related to. The second painting is called, "What Time is It?". The dark haired woman looks confused. The blonde woman tries to explain why he is so good, but it's clear that neither of them really get art. I would like to look this kid's work up. Being an artist myself, I'd be interested to see the "top" artist in the state. The blonde explains that he painted it to capture the moment he fell in love with Mariah. Oh, Mariah must be the blonde woman's daughter. He posted it on FaceBook and only he & her know what the title alludes to. Um...not anymore buddy.

Why am I listening to this? I try to get back to my thinking & writing. Then I hear tidbits of the conversation & conclude that now they have switched to a conversation about love & relationships. Something about why wait & marriage. I smile & laugh a little inside. Marriage has absolutely nothing to do with love. If it's love, true love, there is no rush. It won't magically disappear if you don't grasp it in your hands & hold onto it. You won't lose it. It'll wait forever if it is really love. With those thoughts I look over at the person sitting to my left. Someone I can sit with in silence. Someone that no words need be spoken to. We can simply sit & write & create & be so deeply connected. We sip our yummy coffee drinks & write, creating new worlds & new images never before seen. No gossip. No negativity. Just two people who love each other left in a coffee house on a chocolate couch as the 40 something drama queens exit & leave us in silence.

The end.