In the neighborhood coffee shop…
Balding Man with glasses, early 50s, wearing casual clothes in the manner of someone not used to wearing casual clothes, sits unnaturally erect and makes several phone calls to people along the lines of, “How can you be watching the baby and sleeping at the same time?” and “Hey! I know you said you were busy, but just checking one more time! Movie? You want to see that movie? (*pause*) Right, I know. How about tomorrow? (*longer pause*) Are you busy New Year’s Eve? (*pauses, then blurts:*) You’re gorgeous, you know that?” Soon, lowers voice and conducts earnest conversation I can no longer hear.
Woman, 40-ish, semi-wet black curly hair, glasses, squinting intensely at computer screen, pile of paper at her side, politely ignores everyone around her, especially 50-ish man when he walks up to her and says with false cheer, “You gettin’ everything done?”
Young woman, early 20s, brown wispy hair pulled back in a bun, chomps gum and flips pages in enormous textbook, picks up call after call on her cell. Something’s wrong. It sounds medical.
Man, late 40s, looks accustomed to yachting and fine wines, yet somehow reads like he can’t afford it himself. Red t-shirt, gold watch, spiky hair, leathery face. Sees me studying his shoes (white Shaqs) and faux focuses on keyboard.
Woman, 60s, overweightish, dressed in loud halter top, tan capris, white socks and partially untied tennis shoes. Loudly proclaims disappointment that they’re out of whole grain bagels, sighs and settles for cheese pastry and cafe mocha with whipped cream.
Woman, soon-to-be-40, blondish, tiredish, fiddling with persistent sun spot on lower chin that won’t go away, contemplating explaining to husband that when she told him yesterday she didn’t blog during working hours, she didn’t mean today.
Updates: Semi-wet black curly hair lady spurned another advance from laptop-toting business man walking with feverish strides.
Balding 50-year-old tells person on phone, “I’m lonely,” just not in those words.