I had hoped to be settled down by the time I reached the Coffee Shack, but I was still fuming as I stood in the doorway looking for a vacant chair. The place was busy for a Monday morning, there was only one seat left at the small counter.
“I guess this will have to do,” I thought as I squeezed in. My mind still racing from the drive over.
“That guy nearly ran me off the road,” I muttered as I slipped my sweater and purse over the chair. Thinking better of it, I moved my purse between my feet. “Better safe than sorry,” I whispered. The man next to me turned slightly.
“Yes, I know, sometimes I talk to myself.”
He didn’t say a word, just grunted and went back to his paper. Annoyance shot out from him like electricity.
“Well, excuuuse me,” I thought.
“Grunt.”
“Damn, I have to stop talking to myself.”
“Grunt.”
“Did I say that out loud?”
“Grunt.”
Holding my hand over my mouth I thought,
“Do I need medical attention?” The man gave no response so I knew I hadn’t said that out loud!
My coffee was delivered and I folded my newspaper into a small square, so I could work the crossword puzzle. The man bumped my shoulder as he refolded his paper.
“Don’t worry about me,” I thought, “I’ll just scoot over.”
“Grunt.”
“Damn.”
“Grunt.”
I brought my coffee cup to my mouth to make sure I didn’t speak out loud and thought,
“I have got to stop talking to myself.” I was surprised when my coffee bubbled under my lips. The man didn’t grunt, so I knew I was okay as I thought,
“So I blow bubbles in my coffee, I’m sure that’s not so odd.”
“Grunt.”
I kept my eyes on my crossword and my arms tight to my sides, but I could feel his eyes on me. I’d had just about enough for one morning, so I turned to give him a piece of my mind, what was left of it anyway, and watched as he picked my sweater up off the floor and hung it back on the chair.
“Thank you,” I said.
“Grunt.”
Getting a better look at him, I thought I had seen him before.
“Do you drive a black BMW?” I asked tartly. I was sure he was the man who almost ran me off the road. My eyes were tiny slits as I glared at him.
“Grunt.”
“I’m talking to you!”
He laid his paper down, “I wasn’t sure you were talking to me or to yourself,” He said with a twinkle in his eye.
“Well, do you?” My hands were starting to sweat, but I wasn’t going to back down.
“Sorry, you were between me and my morning coffee. How about I buy you some breakfast?” Surprisingly, my mind was a blank.
“Accept my apology over some bacon and eggs?” He added.
My brain went all fuzzy as I pondered, “Your eyes are the deepest blue.” A slow smile spread across his face.
“Damn,” I thought. His smile deepened. I could feel my face redden. Not wanting to embarrass myself any further I bit down on my tongue, held my lips tightly together and thought,
“I’ll bet you’re used to always getting your own way.” He raised his left eyebrow like a dark brown question mark rising above his tanned skin. Keeping my lips tightly closed, I picked up my crossword puzzle, grabbed my pencil and turning my back to him I boldly replied,
“Grunt.”
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