Sunday Morning Cup of Coffee

I am in my least favorite table at Brewed Awakenings (which is actually now called Anodyne, but I'm old school like that), so we'll see how this goes. Actually, the small table next to the newspaper stand by the door would be my least favorite. But it's usually not a table for people, but a place to hold the newspapers. Today, it's busy, so it is being used for people. I can't find the New York Times, though.

The table in the store window, raised by one step, sit a mother and her son. If this were a clothing store manikins would adorn the storefront window with the latest fashions. This, however, is a coffee shop. The logo for Anodyne, a large "A" with ribbon wrapping through it, is painted on the window. I think of Hester Prynne and Rev. Dimmesdale.

The mom has tattoos. She is wearing a hooded sweatshirt without the hood, it appears to have been ripped off. Her son, probably somewhere in middle grade school, has a rat tail. Only where a rat tail normally grows centered on the upper neck/lower head area, his rat-tail is growing from the right side, just behind his ear. I question both the rat-tail and the location. He is wearing army-fatigue cargo pants with an elastic waist, begging his mother for some money. She replies by giving him a one-arm hug along with half of her attention. He sneaks out from under her. Done with his waffle, he is bored.

The table to my left sit two men, one of them was here when I arrived. He's your coffee shop staple: worn corduroy pants, green puma shoes, flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up exposing the long-sleeved once-white long underwear beneath it. He, however, is interested in the latest sporting news, as the man who just joined him starts talking about the game last night:

"How did the Bucks pull off that win last night against Detroit?"
"Running on all cylinders."
"Just like my truck. Sometimes it runs great, and sometimes it spits and skips."
"I got to watch the game."
"Where?"
"Waukesha."
"Some extended stay."

There is no reply. Having just seen the movie "Brick" this weekend, I'm suspicious of this conversation. It makes sense to them.

The kid is now on the cell phone talking to someone, I only get one side of his conversation. I'm doing my best to follow this little maverick trying to convince the person on the other end that the world is round and tilted on an axis:

"There's a country called Africa. Its winter in Africa and here it is spring. Did you know that?"

Apparently the recipient to his conversation didn't.

"What's Philadelphia?"
"Why is it called Philadelphia?"
"Me York? Oh, New York"
"Did you know there's no Old York"

No, I didn't.

My phone rings. 312 area code. I don't answer it but will learn later that it is Throw's new number.

Cell phone usage continues, as the later-arriving man to my left is on the phone now. Talking to his wife?

"I'm glad you went out last night. You deserved it. I'm sorry I became so frustrated, that wasn't fair of me. It's just that your communication was like a yo-yo."

I just got my first look at the kid's shoes. They have velcro straps instead of laces.



Listening to: Matt Pond PA