continued
"Yeah, that's fine," he said, and smiled back, fighting back a tear in her right eye. The sun outside had been so bright.
He was still blinking when he said, "I wouldn't mind some more information."
"Because our new drink has half the calories of what you were drinking before."
"Half the calories?"
And someone handed him his coffee.
He drank his coffee slowly, shifting uncomfortably on the stool. The café, he saw, was at the edge of a department store. Shelves of green and blue t-shirts stretched far down to what looked like a mirror and brought the light back over the rows of white cubicles.
He stood up to get some sugar and look at the polos.
"I think you're next," said a fat brunette in a zebra tube-top.
"I think I am," he said, and felt his shoes squeak as he turned. The café turned with him, and a thousand faces flashed before him before one finally distilled in awkward jerks five meters in front of him.
"Yes?" she asked. She looked tired as she put an oversized bag of coffee beans back in its basket.
"I love you," he told her, and reached for her hand trying not to rub his eyes.
"Oh my god, you do?"
She smiled at him thumbing her pink apron and he smiled back. He could feel the fat brunette behind him and her breath on his neck.
She was watching everything.
"Yes, I really do, I really love you."
"Oh and you're not just saying that?"
"Not just because of what we talked about last night?"
"Of course not."
"David."
"Katie." And someone behind her handed him his coffee. "Thanks," he said and turned.
He spilled a little on the counter and then walked back to his table.
The paper was gone when he got back. So he stared at the clothing, counting automatically. Blue, green, blue, green. There was a sale on polo shirts. He wondered if he already had anything in blue with green stripes or green with blue stripes.
"How much is that t-shirt?" he asked?
"Two for five," said the fat brunette in the zebra tube top. "And I think you're next," she said, hovering over the sale display.
David wanted to punch her. He wanted to strangle her with her own fake-gold necklace, pinch her mole right off her face.
"I'm afraid now is not a good time," he said instead.
"I just had a few questions," said the fat brunette.
"I'm really sorry," he said, "I'm sick."
"Can you tell us when a more convenient time to call would be?" she asked, and passed him up to the counter. Her hip rubbed his.
The girl behind leaned over, her pink apron pulling her back at the shoulders ever so slightly. She gave into the resistance.
"I love you," he told her.
"Yeah?" she said.
The fat brunette leaned against the counter and put one hand on her ass.
"I love you," he said again. He even set his coffee on the counter. But his eyes hurt, his eyes hurt so bad that his ears rang and he couldn't smell and just the memory of the bright sun outside made him drop the coffee cup.
"That's fine," said the brunette as the coffee spilled on her shoes. "We can clean that up no problem."
He ignored her. "I just love you so much," he said to the girl behind the counter.
"But how can I believe you?" she asked, and wiped away a tear, and closed her phone so she could look him straight in the eye.
And it hurt, it hurt. He almost vomited.
"I think you're next," said the fat brunette in the zebra tube-top.
"You just think you're so goddamn reasonable," the girl behind the counter said. "Every single goddamn day."
"I am living my life to the fullest," he told them both as he headed for the exit.
It was dark by the time he sat down on his couch. And when he turned on the TV, there were sports, seven hours of sleep, a quick shave, and a lifetime of choices already made.
END
