He’s wearing a black lizard belt that matches his black lizard boots, both high gloss and recently polished. I should like the boots and the belt. Normally I would. But, they are so completely misaligned with the rest of his clothing and overall persona that I can’t like them. Seriously. I can’t. Further, I cannot concentrate on drinking my coffee because of his hair. And his beard. …and the outfit/costume he’s donned for the day. I can’t. But, I’ll try. …. tried and failed. The aforementioned boots have a soft oval point. Navy slacks. Well made. Bespoke shirt with an English cuff and cuff links. Thomas Pink flavor. Gray vest. …. more aptly ‘grey' vest. Surely, I am being punked. That’s the only explanation for this. My friends are hiding behind the corner, waiting for me to explode. They know me too well. The boots simply don’t go with the outfit. But, back to the hair because I know what you’re thinking… you’re thinking the shirt and vest sound nice. They are nice. But, in context with the hair, they become overstated hipster irony. Overstated with a red hot poker in my eyeballs. If he had a buzz cut with a mohawk combover, we’d be in business. But, he doesn’t. If he had a neck tattoo, or kitchy knuckle tattoos, we might be closer to fine. But, he doesn't have those either. Let me explain the hair.

In the 1970’s, Mattel made these giant Barbie heads. Little girls bought them to learn how to apply make up and fix hair. He has that hair. Dirty blonde and it has a blunt cut, recently done because there are no split ends- you can see the sharp edges are recently cut with scissors. He used a hair dryer and his wife’s brush this morning… but only for basic utility. There is still a bit of a messy wave, so.. there isn’t a metro thing happening. .. it’s more of a Malibu Jesus thing, except with blunt, recently cut ends. .. Not hot Jesus Christ Super Star hair with layers and a cool mustache. This is Malibu Jesus.. all one-legnth .. a thick righteous Breck-girl mane. The beard is Stage 2 Civil War, trailing roughly one inch below the chin. My brain hurts. If he wouldn’t have worked so hard on this look, I might not be so upset. But, this took planning and preening. And it enrages me for reasons I don’t quite understand. Perhaps the true source of my consternation, is that he's pitching his start up to potential “Employee #1”. In order to live through this start up pitch, I decide that if he quotes Steve Jobs, I will pull his Barbie Head Jesus Hair with my left hand and punch him in the throat with my right.

He senses me staring at him and meets my gaze. My hair is shaved and I have two half-sleeves of tattoos. Therefore, I automatically win this stare-off in less than one second…. before I even exhale, expressing my disgust for everything that he manifests today with his wardrobe selection and startup chat. But, I see that he believes. And he has no idea that his cowboy boots, Barbie Head Jesus Hair, fancy slacks and cuff links are atrocious in their pairing. He also doesn’t know that he is really late to the start up game, and his pitch isn’t that great. I would know. I’ve heard a million of them. In that moment, I let go and find some peace. But, I hold onto the Steve Jobs quote commitment .. just for kicks. Potential Employee #1 finally leaves, and he stops talking. Quiet. It’s nice. I can drink my coffee now. Some days and some people bring harmony, and others bring discord and mayhem. I try to set aside the disharmony when possible, but some days I fail. It’s a daily battle... … go toward the light ya’ll.

She is wearing clogs… the full-on kind that cover her heals. She’s wearing “socklets” with them. Gray skinny jeans rolled up/cuffed twice. Soft tank top that is forgiving/flared at the waist. Her hair is buzzed below the ears and the rest is up in a trendy “man bun” .. except she’s not a man. She is loud. Megaphone loud. She works here and I think her shift is over, but she is lingering and visiting with someone she knows at a table. A young woman and man sit at the table where she lingers. Peaceful hipsters. Not edgy tattooed hipsters.. more like hippies. Do-gooder hippies. She tells them about a summer camp that does interventions for wayward youths. I think she works there too. The hippies play in a band. She tells them “that’s tight”…. and then asks if they need a back up dancer and begins shaking herself to the beat of a song that is not playing. She touches his shoulder several times. The hand is familiar and caresses. I’m not positioned well enough to gauge the reaction of his table companion. It’s revealed that the hippie-not-hipster couple is planning for a trip to India, where they will work with orphans. Their face scrunches up when they say the word “orphans”. The clogged-shod megaphone finally leaves, but not before giving her friend a free leftover taco and a muffin from the breakfast shift, and offering nothing to the female hippie-not-hipster. The couple is now left to plan activities they will do with the orphans. You know.. like drawing pictures of Ganesh, collecting feathers, splitting up in groups based on their favorite animal and various other Anglo-lensed ideations. He finishes the taco and starts on the muffin. He doesn’t ask his companion if she wants a bite of either. She gets up to get water, and offers to get him one. He says yes. This happens twice. The second time, she doesn’t ask him, but he stops her and hands his glass. He’s wearing a bright green headband that angers me more than his dry muffin stinginess. If I were a dragon, I would exhale in their direction and be done with this torture. I quickly chide myself for conjuring all this rage and judgement. After all, I’m trying to release darkness and anger… not grow it. So, even if I was a dragon, it would be wrong to burn them to a crisp over these minor offenses. I pause. I’ve had some water now and taken some deep breaths. I see that he will have intestinal problems on the trip, (… because sometimes I see the future…) He will writhe in pain and she will fetch water, as is her lot until she decides it’s not. …. that is her journey… not mine. He will gobble everything offered to him without thought and without sharing. That is his lot, until he decides it’s not. Invoking fire-breathing dragons... well, I suppose that's mine. …. go toward the light… y’all.

MALIBU JESUS PITCHES HIS START UP

RIGHTEOUS MUFFIN COFFEE