Dating : A Coffee House Near Me

There’s a coffee house near me. It’s where I’ve met so many interesting people.

When I go, I rest my elbows on those wobbly little tables, sipping my drink and enjoying the buzz of life all around me. You learn a lot as you study the trudge of people coming in and out of the coffee house doors.

People are fascinating. Have you ever wondered what that man with a laptop case slung over his shoulders is really thinking? Why does he look like he just received a death sentence? Perhaps he has. Perhaps he has only one year to live and must decide whether he keeps working or goes on that golf vacation he has always dreamed about. It’s on his bucket list. But he doesn’t have much time to tackle that list now.

What about his wife and their three young kids? If he takes that vacation, it will burn through their savings. That terminal diagnosis wasn’t in his retirement plans. And so, he takes his cup, nods at the peppy middle-aged woman serving him and heads out the door.

Coffee black. Life’s outlook, grim.

The woman is smiling behind the counter, but it dissolves when laptop guy leaves. Her mouth curves into a frown as she stares at the cash register. Is the thought of having to produce 30 kinds of coffee that depressing?

It must be her cats. She’s concerned about them. And she’s having second thoughts about the stray she found the night before. She hopes he doesn’t hurt her other sweet-tempered babies.

You never know with strays. They’re that unpredictable, that disappointing. Kind of like men who come into your life and immediately go to the bar fridge. They make assumptions, calling you bitch and slut and whore. They throw things and want you to clean up the mess, insisting on the perfect house, the perfect meals, the perfect sex.

She’ll have to take that stray cat to the shelter. She can’t let him hurt her babies. Here comes her grin again, but it’s insincere this time. She raises her chin a notch higher, waiting for the woman who’s next in line growling down at her whining little boy.

The child leaves mom’s side and smudges his dripping nose over the display case. He extends his tongue and makes a vain attempt to lick those decadent over-priced pastries on the other side of the glass. His mother would never let him near them otherwise.

He’s raised on organic, free-range, nutrient-dense, antibiotic-free foods, targeting all the major food groups. Sugar? Good grief, no. Not her boy. If her Facebook group discovers she let him have that cookie, they’ll revoke her best mommy badge for sure.

She yanks her son’s thin arm against her stretchy-pant thigh. It was a hard work-out today but so worth it. She looks slim and trim whenever she poses in front of the gym mirrors. It should only take a few more sessions with Cindy for her to become the trophy wife she aspires to be.

Maybe then she’ll finally get her husband’s attention when he slugs through the door. Maybe he won’t flop on the couch and immediately stick his earphones in either. They’re at a chasm in their marriage, and they both know it. Maybe if she hadn’t conceived little prince so soon, their life would be better.

She glances down and yanks the youngster back to her side when he licks the glass again. She didn’t sign up for this. She retrieves the flimsy cup holder with one hand and grips the boy’s arm with another, sidestepping around the guy nuzzling his girlfriend.

They’re giggling together. That lanky young man with the dancing eyes whispers something in the ear of the petite brunette. She laughs and blushes and pulls his hanging arm down over her shoulder. So cute.

I wonder if she knows that he’s a narcissist, and a chance meeting at the school library was no chance at all. Bad luck for her. He planned it that way. He told his friends he could score that little bookworm at locker 224. Of course, she’s only another notch in his guitar strap.

Gosh, he’s good. He has that pretty little thing gushing at the seams. Well, at least she’s happy. That’s what counts. The world is bursting with possibilities, and everything her heart aches for is right there, reflected in his knowing eyes.

She’s unsullied, unquenched, and unblemished by the raging disappointments that are about to come stampeding into her young life.

He tickles her side, and she laughs again. Cat lady is getting restless now, with no smile in sight. And when Mr Smooth finally slides up to the cash, his eyes search the menu board as the brunette stares adoringly up at him.

She’s letting him decide for her because she wants him to be happy. She loves him that much. She already forgave him for lying about the blonde he had in the back of his Chevy the night before.

He places their order and glances around the coffee house. Our eyes meet. He gives me a lazy, suggestive smile, his arm still dangling over the brunette’s shoulders.

I don’t look away. I return his smile with a seductive one of my own… just as Joe arrives.

Joe owns a thriving car dealership on the swanky side of town. When he arrives in his immaculate three-piece suit, he pushes a quick hand through his comb-over and sits down beside me. His hand immediately comes over to squeeze my knee, and I give him a beaming smile, placing my hand on his and gently stroking his fingers.

Leaning over, he kisses my cheek, and the smell of Old Spice cologne wafts up my nostrils. My father also wore Old Spice. I can’t stand my father.

My smile remains in place though it wavers a little on my face as I study him. The pools of desire are already swirling in Joe’s eyes. Well, I did wear the red top that best shows off my rounding cleavage. Push-up bras are the best.

I cross my legs. My black stockings and 4-inch heels are unusual in a coffee house, but not totally out of place either. I’m a businesswoman. I’m allowed.

I lean forward and Joe doesn’t hesitate to drop his hungry eyes.

“What can I get for you, sweetheart? I’ll get you anything,” he says with a huskiness in his voice, not bothering to look up at my face.

My tongue darts out to lick my strawberry-glossed lips. I already know what I want.

“I’ll have whatever you’re having, Joe.”

He lifts my hand and kisses my ringed fingers.

Mmm, I really love the coffee house near me.