I Remember the Last One

There's this little coffee shop just off of 19th and Webster that I go to most every saturday and sunday morning.

So it just so happened to be saturday morning, and it was quite early, but I was up because I had woken to a bad dream that was quite a fright and I hadn't been able to get back to sleep. It was busy in the little coffee shop. Ahead of me in line there was a very pretty woman, very shapely and curvaeous, looking much too styled in her tight black suit and golden accessories for the rest of us loafers with sleep crusted eyes and untucked shirts. She was one of those women that I have this deep desire to fuck but I don't know why cuz I'm sure if we ever talked it would take about two minutes to become obvious that we were on different planets. But no matter.

In front of her were a few others of which I paid no attention to because I was paying all my attention and then some to this Shannon Baker scarlet. I did manage to notice however, the very average looking woman and the very average looking boy that were seated at one of the tables, a little to the right of the register. And I did manage to notice a little behind them, standing at the counter where you load up with your milk and your cream and your little plastic lids, two other women who were doing just that, along with a child, maybe a few years older then the first.

One of the women standing at the counter was blonde and fashionable and a little overweight in that overindulgent rich yuppie in the suburbs kind of way. It was her son presumably; she seemed to be leading him around like a pet. I think she gave him at least three separate orders in the time it took her to fill her coffee with condiments, which I found quite an impressive feat and was probably the reason I noticed them in the first place.

Her son was blonde and blue eyed and clean cut and could have been straight out of a fascist propaganda movie from the 40s. I think he might have been playing a little with the other quite average kid who was seated at the table with his quite average mother. But maybe not. I was too busy glancing back to the black haired Athena to take note either way. No matter.

Well the two women at the counter, the overindulged yuppie mom and her yuppie friend, got their coffees filled and their lids tight and made their way out of the shop. But the overindulged yuppie mom stumbled and nearly fell when she bumped into a stroller that was barely protruding at all into the walk way. It was the stroller of the quite average looking woman and her average looking son.

The overindulged yuppie mom, who held her head unnaturally high and had most likely bumped into the stroller because just that, well she made a nasty and haughty and leading remark to my very average woman. I prefer not to repeat it. Still, my woman in response made what was in my estimation a quite unnecessary but most gracious apology. The yuppie mom walked on and didn't say a word.

And then, in perfect symmetry, the very average boy said quite genuinely to the perfect fascist boy, 'bye.' The little fascist boy looked at him awkwardly, and I swear he stuck his nose as high as his mother, and then he walked out behind her without uttering a reply.
- posted by Sigurd6/21/2004 04:32:00 PM