Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
A coffee shop barista approached me as I sat typing. He was wearing a hat, sunglasses, and jacket and had served me just a few minutes before. Smiling big, he said, “Howdy, buddy.”
I stared at him in confusion. “Hey. What’s going on?”
Grinning, he removed his sunglasses and hat. “We were asked to dress up like our favorite customers for Halloween. I chose you.”
Bursting out laughing, I took in he outfit. “Spot on,” I said. “That’s cool. Thanks.” Then I laughed more.
A woman in the coffee shop accosted me today. We’re both regulars. We see each other there, sometimes nodding. I’m always at a table, using a table to write. She’s a few years older than me and typically buys something to eat, checks her phone, and reads a book.
Today, we said hello. I was in the midst of revising a page. She asked, “I notice you always a wear a green hat.”
I do; it’s a Tilly. I nodded.
“Is there a reason for why you wear it?”
Deeply seriously, I replied, “Yes. It has a foil lining built into it.”
Puzzlement folded into her expression. “A foil lining?”
“Yes, you know, to protect me.”
She studied me. I think she was trying to decide if I was joking. Smiling and nodding, I returned to my writing.
It was mid-Saturday morning.
I’d arrived in my favorite coffee locale for my writing session. Vintage soulful music with a jazzy edge was playing on the overhead speaker system. The baristas were busy with drive-through business. Only one other person shared the tables with me, a young woman in a far corner who displayed predatory interest in her cell phone. I’d seen her there before, never with anyone else, and always engaged in her cell. As usual, she was dressed in a sloppy style of what looked like pink and gray pajamas. Her solitude, isolation, and deep focus on her phone piqued my writer side. Oddly, I’d never caught her name from the baristas when her order was called.
I’d pulled my laptop out and had it set up. My mind was already in writing mode. I’m halfway through the first revision of a novel-in-progress with a weird working title, Yum. With my nephew’s wedding and the travel to Pittsburgh and other activities it entailed done, I was eager to delve into the story I’d written. Its speculative nature readily engaged me, and I’m really pleased with what I have so far.
“M, your coffee is up.”
The speaker was the barista, Nate, a good-looking, dark-haired man who seems in his early twenties. I gt along with him quite well. He’s always in a good mood, and we’ll often talk about subjects outside of coffee, inclding smoke and politics.
I headed up to collect my cup and discovered it filled to the brim. Grinning at me, Nate said, “You said you wanted no room.”
I laughed. “Clever.” I reached for a straw.
“Want me to pour some out?” Nate asked while making coffee drinks.
Shaking my head, I gave him a severe look. “Pour out fresh coffee?” Its steamy smell filled my nose. “No, no, challenge accept.”
Inserting the straw into the hot beverage, I sucked some up so it wouldn’t slop any over when I walked. Nate watched and laughed.
“Good job,” he shouted as I took my drink and headed for my table.
“Damn straight,” I answered. If coffee was to be wasted today, it wouldn’t be at my hand.
Time to write like crazy, one more time.
This is all in reference to a post from last week where my preferred coffee shop banned a fellow customer because he told several baristas some things about his website, apparently among other things which happened.
I spoke with the manager about it briefly this morning. While she was reluctant to discuss it — I totally get that — she shared that there had been multiple incidents with the banned man. She said, “While we always try to work it out with our customers and try to accommodate everyone, unfortunately reached a head where we felt that we had to other choice. We know how serious banning someone is, and discussed it at length before we made the decision. It was a team decision. That’s how we always do it, so that we can talk out the pros and cons, and the impact. It wasn’t unanimous, and some were upset about banning someone. But the overwhelming majority felt it was needed.” She left that open-ended about why it was needed. Still, gaining a little more insight into it is useful.
The coffee shop banned a man. He’s middle-aged. White. He’s been coming here as long as I have. I know from conversations with him that he accepts and promulgates several sharply right conspiracy theories and also promotes some unusual Christian ideas about how aliens founded or influenced Christianity. It’s a web which I couldn’t fully untangle.
He’s always struck me as a little lonely, eager for friendship, hungry for validation. One morning this week, he came in, set up somewhere, and placed an order. I didn’t hear any of that. He returned to his seat, picked up is gear, and headed for the door. Pausing by me, he said, “I showed some of them my website the other day, and they’ve banned me. They said they’d call the police if I came in here again.”
Turning, he shouted at the counter, “What happened to freedom of speech?” He stormed for the door. Pausing there, he yelled, “Fascists,” and was gone.
It’s a reflection about boundaries to me. I don’t know what was said the other day or how his website was presented. I know of two other people who were banned earlier this year because they ‘annoyed’ other customers. I witnessed some of that, and yeah, they were annoying. I have mixed thoughts about this, about businesses banning people. I don’t know what was said between the parties but I feel for the folks who struggle, and that’s what I’ve always thought I’ve seen with the banned three.
They entered the coffee shop, passed the hall with two restrooms in it and two signs pointing out those restrooms and walked to the other end of the coffee shop and stared at the employees’ break room door. Then they walked back to the counter and asked the baristas, “Do you have a restroom?” If they’d let their eyes go left, they would have seen a third large sign saying, “Restrooms” with a significant red arrow pointing the way and explanatory text, “The restrooms are in the hall to the right.”
Sometimes, though, you know, urgency just pushes rational thinking and observational skills right out of the brain.
A woman was enjoying a latter with another woman another at a nearby table. I heard her say, “One time my son ended a text with TTYL, and all I could come up with for what it meant was ‘Ta Ta You Loser’.”
Yeah, cracked me up.
He did the coffee shop bathroom combo, pushing the buttons in with his index finger. Each number blinked red. He finished with the pound sign. The door lock flashed green. He pushed the door open.
He always moved cautiously going into the restroom. People forget to look the door. Or pressed the lock button twice, unwittingly unlocking it. He didn’t want to move in on people. No need for a naked sight today. God knows not many pretty people were at the coffee shop today. He chortled. Including him, if he was honest.
He stopped, holding the door open.
Two people were inside.
On the floor.
Young. Boy and girl.
Blood pooled around them.
His mind recorded it, loading memory.
He closed the door and rushed to the counter, cutting to the line’s front, saw the manager and shouted her name.
Bonnie turned. He jerked his head and waved once. Come on. Shifted toward the bathroom hall.
She looked puzzled but began to follow.
“Bring your phone,” he said.
Then thought. Two bodies. An unlocked door.
He didn’t remember seeing a weapon.
There had probably been a murderer in the coffee house.
The coffee shop is full of refugees, if you will. The roads heading south into northern California, Interstate 5 and Highway 101, are closed for a blizzard. Several groups exchanged tales. They expected rain — it’s spring, you know — but they didn’t expect this snow. I feel for them and their disrupted plans, but they have phones and computers, and a comfortable place with okay food and good coffee.
The place has become packed, and of course, their vibe is totally different from the rest of us.
Several friends, Bob and Ellis, were in the coffee shop, sitting at a table a few feet away. Both are regulars. Bob comes in and does the Times crossword puzzle every day.
He shouted to Ellis, “I can’t get this clue. Can you help? It says, James Coburn film, In Like. I don’t know what it is. Do you know?”
“What is it?” Ellis shouted back.
Bob shouted his request again.
Sitting nearby, Michael shouted, “In Like Flint, Bob.”
Ellis said, “Let me think.”
Michael shouted, “In Like Flint.”
Bob and Ellis looked at Michael. “What’s that?” Bob asked.
“In Like Flint.”
“Flynn fits.” Bob looked at Ellis. “You ever hear of that?”
“It seems familiar,” Ellis replied.
Bob beamed at Michael. “It fits. Thanks, Michael.”
“You’re welcome,” Michael answered. “Sometimes it takes a community.”
Michael Seidel, writer 