I wanted to come here. It wasn’t easy. I had to park two blocks away and make my way over in the rain amid construction equipment and chalky mud. ... And yeah, I stepped in the chalky mud and my foot sunk into it, more than I anticipated… as a foot does when surprised by material murkiness.
But, I’m here now. And it’s the same as it has been for 20 years. Yellow walls, long leaf pine floors. Bad art on the walls. There is a gaggle of girls crowding the counter hugging one another. Are they ordering? … or just hugging? Why are they hugging in the queue? There should be a hugging area. And it should be no where near the ordering queue. … A pair of comfortable shoes sits alone on the floor. Their wall flower owner is cradled in a chair, reading a book. Her socks are of the colorful striped variety, and they are enjoying temporary liberation from the hideous shoes. I know this because her toes are curling inward, like a cat when it’s pleased. … His laptop reveals pages of notes written in Arabic, a piece of masking tape with the word “focus” written on it is affixed to the top of his screen. Five minutes later his screen reveals he is also watching a movie.
The masking tape and the striped socks wish they could commiserate with each other. They long to talk shop. They want to vent about the irony of their existance and the tickling cruelty of their fates. I hear them screaming loudly, and I decide to let them in. We talk for a bit. I tell the socks to consider an alternate scenario where they live with a beautiful fashionista. They are excited about this, until they realize they would likely become the wall flower in that scenario. Irony -- indeed. The tape has power issues. …constantly wants to control. I tell him I’m the same way, and offer a couple of Buddhist readings and mediations.
Though they will likely never meet again, they briefly shared space today and in so doing lifted their burdens slightly. The socks, donned as the only shred of mystique or interest on an erstwhile wall flower, slip reluctantly back into the comfortable shoes. The tape, an incompetent hall monitor and ineffective task master, gets smothered when the laptop closes. I hope he is using the breathing techniques we discussed. Their owners, unfashionable and unfocused, exit stage left, out the coffeeshop door and into the world at large. And I am staring at an empty chair and an empty table across from me… feeling a bit abandoned by my new friends. I wonder if its possible for the hugging girls to reappear and bring me into their fold. …. go toward the light... ya’ll.
