Internal Monologue: Friday Morning

He wears jeans, sneakers, and a tan checkered button-down shirt.

He’s probably boring.  I think I should say hi. Probably, he’s boring. Law school. Maybe engineering. Today should be the day I say hello. But I bet he’s boring.

I’m writing/listening to Michael Jackson at the small cafe near my apartment, catching quick glances at my ‘cafe crush’  (the guy who comes in as frequently as I do, orders a latte, as I do, and stares intently at his laptop, as I do.)

I’m not sure I can classify this as a crush. I’m just not sure. We’ve known each other maybe a month, and by ‘know each other’ I mean we’ve been sitting at opposite tables, facing each other, anywhere from one to three days per week, staring at the screens of our respective Macbooks, drinking our lattes, in our own worlds. Separately. But together, sort of.

I have “his” table today. When I came in he was sitting on the couch with a friend (a girl, but a friend, I think, based on body language) any they were talking.

“We’re living in the dark ages of communication,” he says. I think he’s being sarcastic.

When I got up to use the bathroom, I asked if he could keep an eye on my laptop. He smiled, and said yes.

A small step.

From a certain angle, he resembles an ex-boyfriend. From a different angle, he’s not attractive at all.

I’m not sure if I stare because he’s handsome, or just because he’s there. Why does he come here nearly every day? What does he work on? He just stars at the screen with focus. I don’t see him type. Sometimes he purses his lips, sometimes he furrows his brow. Mostly, he’s expressionless.

Still, I like it when it’s just the two of us around 9:00-9:30, before the brunch crowd comes in. It’s a false intimacy I’d like to cultivate.

It’s nearly 1:00. He’s still here, and so am I. I order another coffee so I can justifying staying just a little bit longer.

I sense we’ve developed some kind of relationship, though we’ve spoken only two words. Oh, the irony of going into the same place, seeing the same face, and saying nothing, day after day.

I’ll ask why he comes here. Tomorrow.