Phaedrus meets Ms. Classy Mess

It was 11 AM. I entered a surprisingly empty Starbucks. There was just one guy put up in a corner, crumbled on the sofa, book covering his face. I could see he was reading Orwell’s 1984. On the table, with his mug of coffee, lied another book — Green’s Looking for Alaska.

“Ah, interesting. Extreme flavours.”, I thought and did my rituals. I ordered my usual, went to my usual table and did my usual thing — opened the laptop, plugged my earphones, and started working. I had emptied my whole bag to find the phone charger and in the rush of getting something done, left the mess to clean for later. With my diary, headphones and the Kindle, I had removed a book which I am reading (Zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance).

Few minutes later, the guy came over.

“Hey, sorry to disturb, are you busy?”, He asked, almost scaring me with a tap on the table.

“No, not really.”, I fumbled. He was handsomely bearded and read books. Obviously I wasn’t busy.

“May I?”, He pointed at the book.

“Sure.”, I replied.

He picked it up, smelled it, and went through the pages, reading the words my friend had written.

“A gift?”, He asked.

“Yup.”, I replied.

“That’s a thoughtful one. It’s a great book.”, He said.

“The feelings are mutual so far.”, I agreed.

He removed the bookmark and stuck it in his glasses.

“Tell me these are the most dreamy eyes you’ve ever seen.”, He said.

I reciprocated with a laugh.

“How’s 1984 coming along?”, I asked.

“Oh man, it’s pathetically a classic. You’ve read it?”, He enquired.

“Yeah, and the other one too — Looking for Alaska.”, I went on.

“Great. Looks like somebody is a bibliophile.”, He giggled.

“Nah, I just happen to like books.”, I answered.

“Should I read the other one?”, He asked.

“Of course!”, I said without even giving it a second thought. Looking for Alaska was a good read.

“Your wish is my command.”, He said with a cheesy tone.

“Eww. Bad move. Cliched line. You can do better.”, I laughed.

“Haha. Sure I can. But anyway, I’ll let you get back to your work. See ya. Have fun reading the book.”, He hurried.

“Sure. Bye. Nice meeting you too.”, I said.

He picked up his bag, book, and went towards the door, halted, traced his steps back, and walked towards me.

“Hey, may I know your name?”, He asked.

“Oh yeah. Harshita, it is. What about yours?”, I put my hand out for a handshake.

“Phaedrus. Call me, Phaedrus, Ms. Classy Mess.”, He shaked, laughed, and went out in a jiffy.