I walked the last block and a half, and into the small coffee shop. The tall front windows let in plenty of light on sunny days, but it was dark and cloudy, and rain and been coming in spats all day. Just as I’d left my apartment, the sky decided it had had a long enough break and started drizzling again. I rattled my now damp umbrella onto the mat at the front door, and folded it up, looping the strap around my wrist and walking forward. It smelled a little burnt in the shop, like when you blow out a candle. The barista at the cashier was not having a good day. They looked up and swept dark bangs away from their eyes as I approached – and took my order with a cold disregard for positivity. Putting my debit card back in my wallet, I finally glanced around the shop, and noticed Dustin Kemp sitting in the far corner. I suddenly felt a twisting ball of annoyance. It was like a cat had been released in my stomach and was now clawing at my sensibilities of decent public behavior.
He was leaning over the table, his eyes and focus absorbed by his phone, a large caramel muffin being absorbed by his mouth. He had gotten glasses since I’d seen him, or maybe just started wearing old ones more. Thick rectangular plastic frames, the greenish light from his old android glinting dully. His large silver earring was catching most of the reflection, along with the silly gold chain dangling off his neck, clattering against the wooden table with every slight shift of his 5’4” bulk. He was truly an unpleasant sight, seeing him there. I wondered if he’d seen me walk in – he sure hadn’t looked up since I’d noticed him. I don’t usually react this strongly to people I see, but that’s what happens when someone has sex on your bed a week after meeting you, just out of spite.
This was an exercise for a Skillshare class… Part 2 coming later.