Whispered Love
Stories inspired by the many many hours I spend in coffee shops around NYC
I was very sure I wouldn’t enter a Starbucks today. Nope! I looked up coffee shops in Midtown where one could work, or as Google Maps puts it “Where understudies go”. Zeroed in on 5 of them and started walking toward the first one. I could tell you exactly what was wrong with each of them, but then you’d call me finicky. So all I will tell you is that none of them had the right vibe. You know, a sense of euphoria in the air that spells coffee solves everything! The right balance between quiet and chaos, with an eclectic mix of people.
People. That’s what brings me into the city every day. I love watching them. Making up stories about them. Wondering how their day is going. My lonely apartment in the suburbs, with the impeccable home office, doesn’t have them. There is way too much silence! Here, there are tourists. And messengers. And interns. And people like me who have no cubicles but need the cacophony to feel at home.
Just as I was walking into the Starbucks franchise of the day, I saw her! The one who had gone to prom with me and but not come back with me. The one I had pined after for years. There is something about high school crushes. You think you are over them. Till they spring up in the most unlikeliest places, and paralysis starts setting in.
I stood there awhile, one foot inside the door, observing her. Still contemplating whether my people fix for the day was worth the emotional upheaval. Maybe I should go for another walk around the block and forget this street existed. Google probably would let me mark this spot as “Never Ever”.
Then she looked away from the guy she was arguing with and looked at me. I don’t think she remembered me but there was this flicker of recognition. A wave of self-confidence mixed with self-loathing washed all over me. How bad could it be really? I am a grown man, who’s had many, many relationships since that fateful night years ago. Since then, I had even ghosted a few girls myself, just to prove I can. I was bulletproof, nothing to lose. No! No! Scrap that. That’s the lyrics of Titanium.
A million thoughts were racing though my mind as she walked towards me. She gave me a tight hug and then kissed me.
I remembered a kid, sitting alone in the limo. Waiting with bated breath for his date to come out. He imagined what his first kiss would be like and couldn’t wait to find out. And he waited and waited. Till someone knocked on the window and gave him a napkin. He didn’t need to check the napkin. He spit the gum into it, threw it on the sidewalk and walked home.
That kid would have loved this kiss. That kid, deep inside me, felt redeemed. I was still not very sure she knew me. But for that moment, I didn’t care. All I wanted to do was to kiss her again. And again. And then take her home. And marry her. We would have a boy and a girl, preferably twins.
She asked if I smoked as she dragged me outside, away from the corner with all her stuff and her guy. I don’t smoke anymore. But I wasn’t going to tell her that. So I took a drag from the cigarette she handed me, all the while trying not to make a fool of myself. I wanted to ask her if she remembered me. I really did. But I was afraid. So I started yapping about a million other things. My work. Our friends back home. She still hadn’t spoken a word, showing any sign of recognition. She pulled me closer to her and blew smoke rings towards me. I was sure this was the beginning of something beautiful.
She inched towards me again. I puckered up. Her lips went past my lips and towards my ear. “Is the guy in blue at my table looking at us? Does he look mad?” she whispered.
