I can’t help but people-watch. We’re all a little weird — I like it.
Except for the headache I woke up with, a dull reminder of what I consumed last night, there’s not much I’d change about this Saturday morning.
I love this weather. A game of warm and cold.
A man ignores the obvious “NOT AN ENTRANCE” sign, yanks the door, and mutters angrily to himself as he stomps away. The woman next to me smiles when I check if anyone else was watching.
This weather is a game — you have to be on the alert for either shift. With the sun, the breeze is perfect. My winter-pale skin feels hot, and the breeze is just enough. The cloud cover that comes moments later is a welcome relief, but, like an awkward goodbye, it sometimes hangs around too long. I reach for my sweatshirt, but the sun is back. Perfect.
The woman across from me is attractive, but the sunglasses are too big for her face. Her friend arrives and she notices I’m looking…and writing. Hopefully they’re not creeped out.
Shit, I look at my cellphone and lose my train of thought, or lack of thought. But the coffee brings me back.
I like the smells here. Sitting next to a planter, the distinct smell of dirt reminds me of my summers spent landscaping. A classic car is idling, stopped for the red light. The smell of this exhaust is different, welcome and reminiscent of my dad.
I give the same warm smile as each dog walks by. That funny diagonal walk against the leash, hopeful for food and attention. Simply living in the moment as dogs do.
The sun is gone again. It’s time to go.
Originally Published: May 10, 2014