It’s such a gorgeous day! I need the excuse to do something. I’ve been stuck in the house all week, folding laundry, budgeting, picking up everyone’s clothes, garbage, toys…
I’m doing it!
I walk over to this new little cafe that opened up on the corner. It’s right along a busy street. Narrow sidewalk out front. It’s got a cute red door and a big front window. The style is Parisian. What strikes me every time I drive past is that there is one small table out front. Maybe you wouldn’t even call it a table, more like a side table. It has a black fold out chair. It’s in the full sun, on the sidewalk, close to the store. It looks like either they’ve discarded it or they forgot to bring it in. I almost don’t want to go because of that silly table. Looking at it reminds me of feeling self conscious and out of place. I'm sure everyone who drives by thinks the same thing...about the table.
I walk in and a frazzled white haired lady looks up from behind the counter and says hurriedly, “We’re closing”.
She sees my look of embarrassment as I turn to go and says, “I don’t mean right now! I mean I can’t keep the place open. They told me, they told me, they told me, location is everything. What do you think of this location?”
All I can think about is the silly table out front. “Uh, it seems good. Lots of cars driving by.”
“Yup! I knew it! I was right and you were wrong.” She says to the room as if the naysayer was sitting there.
Well this is odd and uncomfortable. Where’s the exit? Now I’m stuck here, wishing I was at home folding laundry. I have to sit here answering this lady’s business questions, in the presence of the ghost of whoever. Ugh! Little table it is!
I order a coffee…black…because apparently, “all the other customers used up the cream and sugar.”
I left her talking to her “room full of people” and went out to the sidewalk.
‘It’s sunny’, I remind myself to be thankful. I sit down and now what? Here I am with my coffee, by myself.
You know it’s funny what can happen in a second. I lift my coffee to my lips and at the same moment a pigeon’s poop lands in my coffee, slides into my mouth and down my throat.
Yup, I’m going home now.
