I am in a coffee shop for the first time with my tablet. It was exciting for me to leave the house knowing that I would be cool with the other cool people with their tablets in a coffee shop. Everyone writing their poetry or reading some wildly classic novel that I have never read. Maybe reading the news or keeping up with incredibly important social news from their friends from all over the places that they go. I am fully charged and ready to go.
Just the thought of connecting to strange Wi-F gave me thrills. For a small moment on time, I would be a mysterious intelligent looking man. I just wished I had a dark look about me. My kids theater group has a show in a hour. So, I may look like a goofy dad on the outside, but I am practically Goth on the inside.
Sort of like a heath bar.
I found a spot close to the theater and position my minivan for a practical exit. Facing home and away from the crowds. Even hip tablet packing gentlemen have think to the future. Walking swiftly past the Civic Theater, I gave my boy the courtesy, “break a leg,” then walked with purpose to the coffee shop. The air was cool which always makes for a wonderful New Bern downtown stroll sheer joy. I would take a. walk around the block, but a man with a tablet has a purpose.
A couple of giant dogs were blocking my path of the front door. The snarling drooling beasts set themselves as a hopeless challenge to my quest. Be gone beasts! And then the two little girls tugged on their leashes screaming loudly.
“Good boy, let’s go home.” Something sinister like that to control the savage creatures.
Getting past this challenge I was able to get back to normalcy.
My plan was to first order a delightful beverage. The Mocha Shake is my drink on theater nights. Espresso, chocolate and ice cream. Not nice to the calorie counter, but screaming pleasures to my belly.
I ordered and paid cash. I took a dollar from my change and dropped it into the tip jar. Slowly and surely. Not so slowly as to be too obvious, but surely enough for the peripherals of the young lady to know.
As my hand released the bill, she completely turned and my dollar slow motioned to the bottom of the jar. Pointing and laughing all the way. Same thing happened last time. I’ll have to give an extra special thank you. Yes, I am sure that will work.
“Do you have Wi-Fi?” I asked.
“Yes.” she said.
I nodded within the boundaries of my own head, smiling back at my imaginary mirror. There’s nothing wrong with giving yourself a mental thumbs up a few times a day.
Let the tablet games begin.
While the blender brrred and whined, I set out to find the perfect place to sit. Wheeled around, tablet gps at full strength a mutual concurrence appeared that the place was empty. Ok, so I was first. I took this as opportunity. I could position myself anywhere and have the look of being smart all afternoon.
There was a very comfortable looking couch. Ah, but that was big enough for two. My ego will get there soon enough, I tell myself. Soon enough. Next to it was a representation of ‘Chairy’. I could really sink right into that, open my newly downloaded Kurt Vonnegut novel and, well, probably fall asleep in chairy. I would miss all the adoring gazes from ladies seeking to eyeball the smart guy. I’m the good looking guy will walk in as soon as that happens.
Besides, the chair puts my back to the blender and a lot of employee activity. If I were just to read a book, that would be wonderful, but I quite possibly may want to write for a while.
This novel isn’t going to right itself.
You know what. I peer into the mirror where I am tall and good looking. A thin mustache that gives me the look of safari hunter and muscles to back it up. My rifle lies next me fully loaded with the safety off. A man of my stature can not be bothered with trivial things such as another’s safety. A beast could venture down Middle Street without warning. Who! But I! Coming to the rescue of all passerbys and former naysayers, I whip my trusty rifle in postion, cock the cock thing on it and blast away never missing a shot.
You know what? I smack my own self in the back of the head and steer pathetic to a small round table in the center of the room.