I’m sitting at my favorite local coffee shop- favorite because it’s actually open until a decent hour of the evening unlike most shops. I can loiter here till almost midnight if I please, which is just my cup of tea. And I’m having a cup of tea, or actually a whole pot of tea, and a double-chocolate cookie the size of my face to balance out all the healthy effects the tea might have on me. I’m a firm believer of balance, you know.
Tonight is particularly good because while I came here alone after my dance class for the express purpose of writing and making To-Do lists for my life, alas, the conversations on either side of me are exceedingly interesting and I am shamelessly eavesdropping. Hopefully my fingers flying across my keyboard give the illusion of concentration rather than creeperhood, but I am listening as hard as my multi-tasking skills allow.
There is a couple on each side of me, and given the scope of their conversations, I suspect they’re both on first dates. Snatches of monologues lodge in my brain; “Yeah, I lived in Salt Lake City, but I have to admit, dating was hard there.” “I live in a neighborhood of mostly old people, not that I’m saying that’s a bad thing, but you know…” “I like your earrings.” “…It’s because I just chew all the time.” Nope, pretty sure he didn’t say that, I must listen a little harder. This seems like an awkward pastime to partake in; thank heavens I’m here alone. Sometimes people give me a bit of a “There, there, there” virtual pat on the head with their pitying eyes, as if to say, “I’m so sorry you’re almost thirty and single. Someday the perfect man will find you and your life can begin.” But they don’t know that I really like my solitary coffee shop runs and having the whole bed and the whole cookie to myself and never cleaning shaving trimmings out of the bathroom sink and freedom from awkward dates.
Anyway. This wasn’t meant to turn into a dissertation on the benefits of single-hood, although I could well write one. There are already plenty of articles about the benefits of single-hood, but they tend to be written in one of two ways. Either they give you tips to be happy until your fate changes and you can get married, instead of actually talking about the really good things in single-hood, or they talk about how lucky you are that you aren’t stuck in marriage and how you should actually be so thankful for your freedom and stop being jealous of married people already because their lives suck. Neither viewpoint sounds particularly correct, you know? Oops, I’m ranting again, change of topic.
I think the guy on my left is a doctor. I hope he’s not noticing that I’m consuming the whole cookie-the-size-of-my-face in one sitting. (Sneaks another bite.) The couple on my right sure is spending a lot of time on their phones. I have a feeling there’s not going to be a second date, maybe because he “chews all the time”. And if I’m judging date quality, the guy on my left is doing an awful lot of the talking. Give the girl a chance to speak now and then too, my good sir, instead of only allowing her room to express mild amusement at your anecdotes! Speaking of which, have you heard of the doctor who could judge with shocking accuracy whether couples would stay together based on micro-observation of just a few minutes of conversation between them? Maybe that’s my calling.
A man just walked into the coffee shop wearing skinny jeans rolled a third of the way up to his knees, and loafers without socks. I’m all for people wearing fashion they like whether the rest of the world likes it or not, but I think my eyes may be bleeding a little. Also, it’s fiercely cold outside, how are his bony ankles not chattering with cold? He ordered CPR tea- is that symbolic of the health of his frozen ankles? I have so many questions.
I really should be writing about the delectable salmon tostaditas I made for my February Bon Appetit recipe since tomorrow is the end of the month, but alas, I do not want to, so you shall hear about those in March. I have many drafts to finish and share with you someday soon, but I confess, writing has not been my top priority lately, and for the last months instead of a gushing stream flowing out of my fingertips, the words burble like a clogged toilet that’s flushing too slowly, and the results are about as savory. But I am planning an overwhelming number of new adventures which you shall hear about in due time, and I can’t wait to see where this year takes you and me and this little blog.
And now, the dating couples have gone their ways, my teapot is empty, all that’s left of my sinfully-large-cookie is crumbs and a delightful lingering chocolateyness, and it’s time I take myself home. Thanks for people watching with me at the coffee shop tonight, and for sharing in my musings. I’m glad you’re here.