Just another terrible day at the Café

I wish there was a word like “terribler” because that’s what my day became when I saw him.

So its mid-afternoon on March 13th, 2017, I’ve had a bad day so far. I’m heading into the local Café to pretend to get some work done. I set my bag down, throwing awkward hi’s and hello’s all over the place. I order a milkshake and a sandwich that I really don’t want to order but I remember that the Man I met in 2016 had offered me those sandwiches on the first day we met and I had refused to eat them; So I think to myself “what the hell, why not? I’m curious”.

I go over to my seat and plug my laptop to the extension box, pass my cord under a table, tangle and untangle it a couple of times and hit a couple of people. Two awkward apologies and a few what-the-fuck moments later and I’m finally settled.

I switch my laptop on and get into work mode, ready to pretend to take on the entire world and tweet while at it. I bow my head, on my mark, get set and then I smell it. No, it wasn’t a fart. It was the smell of croissants. I look up and the man adjacent to me has ordered 2 croissants. He looks up at me like he knows that he has offended me but neither of us can really understand why his ordering croissants in a café is offensive. we just know that in this moment, it somehow is.

I continue to gaze deep down into his offensive eyes and I realize things about both of us simultaneously. Firstly I realize for the first time that I hate the smell of 2 croissants. I love the smell of one but the smell of two makes me want to cry. Secondly this man is wicked for ordering these 2 croissants and he won’t sleep because I’ve heard that there is no sleep for the wicked. Thirdly, I wrote an entire medium post about a man who wanted me to eat these shit sandwiches. Bummer.

I try to focus on work pretense but my mind keeps going back to the most random things like the peacock I saw at breakfast while I ate ONE croissant like a normal human being and how I almost bought a peach onesie in the December of 2012. I really do hate this man. I hate his eyes heavy with the sight of his 2 croissants. I hate his hands stained with the crumbs of his 2 croissants. I silently dare him to speak to me with that offensive mouth of his 2 croissants but he doesn’t.

He’s done eating his abomination but I can’t focus on pretending to work anymore, so I unplug my laptop from the extension box, pass my cord under a table, tangle and untangle it a couple of times and hit a couple of people. Two awkward apologies and a few what-the-fuck moments later and I’m finally settled.

I order one more shit sandwich for the road, say no goodbyes and leave.