Complicated Coffee

It's a double date. Esther and Jonathan have been seeing a lot of each other over the last three months. Izzy and Rico have been married for 2 years but had a 12 year engagement. One of those. Esther wondered if they'd jinx it by tying the knot- fall apart and divorce within the year. So far, so good. At least from outward appearances. Esther's nervous- she likes this guy but knows he's a hard sell. Izzy and Rico are her oldest, dearest friends. They've been there through all of her men, for better or worse. Mostly worse. It's rare that Esther does the meet and greet so soon into a courtship but this  one feels different. He's kind. Funny. Conscientious. Short. Ok, there are some cons weighing against the pros, she knows this. But he's the best thing she's met in months, maybe even years. Esther slides onto the chair next to the window, leaving Jonathan with the aisle seat. Awkward seeing that she has to fold her legs in on herself like a praying mantis. Not that she kills her prey after sex or anything. Things have never gotten that bad. Everyone gladhands, a mixture of hugs, air kisses, uncomfortable handshakes. Jonathan stands until the women sit. Esther watches her friends stealthily for any sign of approval or disdain, trying to relax, remain calm. Rico offers to place their orders, wait in the ever expanding line of yummy mummes with strollers and earnest hipster types with laptops geting ready to write their day away on caffeine and free wifi. Jonathan begs him off, insisting he pay, and at the least stand in line alongside him. Plus his order is complicated, one of those no whip, steamed, extra hot, shot of something, half caf, low fat, with a twist fancy coffees. Esther shrinks in her seat. She can feel the colour rising in her neck. Izzy catches her eye with an expression that says, Wow. He's THAT guy, the complicated coffee guy. Then a smile creeps across her face and she winks playfully. Izzy tells Jonathan she'll have the same, squeezing Esther's hand in collusion. Then Esther pipes up, Make it three. Jonathan, oblivious to it all, beams from ear to ear. Oh! You'll love it, I swear! he enthuses. It's really, really, REALLY good coffee. Oh, that's great, that's wonderful. I'm so excited to share this with you guys, you're gonna love it, it's just great! Esther can't help it. He makes her happy, quirks and crazy coffee predilections all.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Moving in Stasis

Go. Get on that plane, that train, that bus. Walk if you have to. Swim, we've got great lakes and oceans and rivers. So many bodies of water and tracts of land to get across. Find a way, they said, just get here, soon. And so Tally packed a bag with just the essentials: a blueberry corn muffin with a shmear of cream cheese, her well worn pocket stone she rubs in her left hand, a packet of mints from the drive in theatre, and two pineapple juice boxes. A clean pair of socks, some dental floss, mom's old cigarette lighter she stole off her bureau, and twenty three dollars and eighty five cents in change. That was the heaviest part of her backpack. She wondered if she was forgetting something but her mind raced with all the things at once. Will her shoes be comfortable on the long journey? Did she feed the cockatiel before she left the house? How can she get across the ocean if the boats aren't docking in the harbour anymore? What if she runs out of money? Will Joseph be
Read more

Kindness Is A Boomerang

If he can make it off the couch to the kitchen, then he'll be up and at 'em. Movement is motion and motion is energy and like a battery, he'll recharge. Feel better. Or different. Good enough. Long nights of hourly wake ups, followed by the struggle to quiet his mind. Loop, loop, looping through endless thoughts of what if and who will and I should and maybe they'll but just go to sleep. Sleep. No tech in his room, just sleep and sex. Although physical touch has been lacking. Wanting. Week seven, but who's counting.  And that's just sheltering in place. Before that, well...seasons. The sky is bright. City living with no light pollution is like life at the cottage on Lac St Joseph. There are meteors tonight, a shower or falling or maybe it's his brain playing tricks on his eyes. Looking for things  he can't possibly see. Four missed calls. Thirteen notifications. No one he's pining for so it's a wash. Is it too late to get up... too early
Read more

Good, Not Great

She hits the down button. Two hospital admin types, young women in almost stylish outfits, the ones afforded on entry level salaries, wait on a car going up. The elevator arrives, doors open, she steps on then realizes she's going up. Force of habit, she says aloud to no one in particular, pavlovian response. The two women sort of smile as they study the floor, suddenly intensely awkward and private. She gets louder as she backs out of the car. Doors close and she hovers her finger over the already illuminated down button. Right, just did that. It's quiet here, far from the madding crowd. Emerg was busy, mainly the geriatric crew. A few indigent and drunk and disorderlies draped over chairs, hanging out of gurneys, buried under sheets and gowns, moaning, rambling incoherently. It's the large-and-in-charge paramedic night: 4 teams of doughy young men stand sentinel with their wards, buried in paperwork, bored with the hurry and up wait logjam of daily deliveries.
Read more