To co-exist

I know a lot of people like to get work done in coffee shops, but I’m finding it kind of awkward. First of all, I feel incredibly guilty about buying $1.25 worth of beverage and hanging out for several hours. At a chain like Peet’s, I don’t feel the guilt of the tiny purchase, but there you only have two hours to get your work done, and that makes me panicky and puts a crink in my neck. And regardless of where you are, there are always disruptions.

Today, there have been two of note. One was a woman who came in with her two daughters: Ariel and Jasmine. (Yes, those are their real names…unless they’re both going through a phase and have asked to be addressed as such. But the mother seemed relatively young, and my cousin’s fiancée long ago announced that she wanted to name her firstborn “Dora,” after the fish in Finding Nemo…so I really do think it’s a thing. And a sign you’re not old enough to be pumping out babies.)

Anyway, these kids proceeded to YELL through the coffee shop window across the busy street to someone they knew there. This went on for about ten minutes. At some point, a young guy sitting nearest to them took off his headphones and asked them to stop, but that only gave them pause for a couple of minutes. I’m amazed at parents who are this oblivious to the disruption their kids cause. It’s not like a crying baby in a quiet place, which just makes me feel bad for whoever’s holding it. These are five- and seven-year-olds. But no matter. The real reason I brought it up was that they’re named after Disney princesses.

And now, just a couple of minutes ago, a guy came in in full bike leathers. He didn’t buy anything, but took off his motorcycle jacket and sat down with his laptop. Then, after firing it up, he got up to continue preparing to GET STUFF DONE. I mean, you definitely can’t work in an ensemble as badass as leathers. He caught my eye first because he kicked off his boots and underneath was wearing pink pig socks, which say “Oink oink oink” all over them. That was curious, but I continued to watch because it’s not often you see someone taking off pants in public, which is what he did next. I think about this often, actually, because when you grow up in San Diego, you get used to wearing shorts towards the end of the school year but freezing all morning because of June Gloom. And while it makes sense to wear a sweatshirt, no one ever wore sweatpants over their shorts…I think because it’s awkward to take them off. It’s completely impossible to do gracefully. That’s why, in movie sex scenes, you never see a character dealing with the problem of taking off jeans.

So, anyway, this guy peels off his leather pants, which are tight enough that I’m amazed at what’s underneath: purple camouflage pants. He must have STUFFED those things in there. I wonder if he rearranged the fabric at all once he was in.

And then—THEN—he pulls out a pair of pink ballet slippers. Not the pointe kind, which would make this story better, but definitely legit ballet slippers, with the scuffed toes that differentiate them from the Nine West version. Now he’s really ready for something. Maybe it’s performance art, and he’s going to do a split on the coffeehouse floor?

No.

He just sat down to work.

That’s his work outfit.

I can’t tell if I’m thrilled or if this is just the disappointment of the afternoon.

He did just take a sip of a Diet Coke that I swear was left on the table by the last person sitting there. Oh, my God, he just smiled at me knowingly. He can’t read this because I’m on an unsecured network, right?

I need to leave this place.