I seem to be running off to coffee shops a lot lately. Today's drug of choice, "Extracto Coffee House." I'm drinking a beautiful Guatemalan blend...rich, vibrant, and smooth on the pallet. I splash in a dash of Half and Half (yes I am one those people that taint their coffee sometimes) and a sprinkle of splenda, not too much, but just a lil' pinch.
I sit in the middle of a semi busy coffee house, facing the window that looks out onto NE Killingsworth. There's a woman that sits directly in-front of me, long tethered red hair pulled back in a tired ponytail, crooked spectacles, and a newborn baby...a red head also. This woman begs to read the book that sits in front of her and the little guy (I'm presuming it's a boy by the blue outfit and blanket), the pages look new and untouched, the bookmark is stuck within the first fifty pages or so, you can tell she hasn't had much time. She doesn't seem to bothered by not being to dive into her new book, rather she seems quite content with watching her child smile and toss his limbs around unknowingly so. Someday that could be me, and I wouldn't mind that.
I finished my Asiago bagel some time ago, and still feel my tummy knocking on my brains distressed door shouting, "Excuse me, but I really would like more to eat today than a bagel and cream cheese. Coffee does not count as food." I know I'm making myself sound like I have MPD (Multi Personality Disorder) but I don't. I don't believe the voices I hear are different persona's dying to escape, I'm just a little melodramatic sometimes, and like to play with the extreme of imagery. My girlfriend could expand on this a little more if you want to know more...
Perhaps it's time for me to slowly drag myself back home...my dog Lola needs to be taken on a walk, and I need to check in on Brenda...she's been pretty sick.
I think I am going to stop by and say hello to the woman with the baby on my way out...she needs to be told how adorable her kid is, after all, parents love to hear that stuff, right?
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