Macabre Stripes

May 15, 2009

I was sitting in Starbucks doing work tonight, hunched over my books like an unkempt watchmaker, and a boy around my age sits down at the table next to me. He looked around before sitting down, and when he did I stared at him. He had a very round face. We made awkward eye contact and I looked back at my notebook. He was wearing a black and gray striped jacket. I hoped I looked busy and mature.

Then, Stripes went to the counter to get something. A few minutes later, I looked up and ahead after staring at my notebook too intensely, and he was sitting in the table in front of me, facing me. But he had no drink. We made eye contact and I quickly (and awkwardly) looked back in my notebook and wrote, “wtf?!” 

The next time I looked up from my notebook, he was sitting at the table diagonal to mine. I was so wtf-ed out I didn’t even care at that point. A minute later, he was missing in action. Maybe he was participating in a drug deal and realized I was on to him. Or maybe my dashing good looks were too much for him to handle.

O, Closter, what a magical town! Full of little wonders and cwo-fee house madness.

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