A Solitary Cup Of Coffee
There are days where I enjoy the company of other people. Then there are the days where I embrace my solitude in my boring suburban fake-topia. The suburban lifestyle portrayed in 1950's-esque television was a fantasy. Fuck my neighbors and their chemically grown lawns, which are styled with their grotesque, gas polluting mowers.
Most days I hate rolling over and seeing my wife in my bed. I loved her at one point in my life, but all of that has faded along with any resemblance of my life. However, I am grateful for her, she makes my breakfast most mornings. What more can a man at 43 ask for? Sex? Well sure, but most days I won't get it up, only because I don't want to. I try to get out of bed before her and get in the bathroom. Even if I don't have to poop I'll just sit on the toilet and read until she leaves the room. After my successful bowel movement or catching up on the news I'll neglect showering and get dressed. I’ve cut out self grooming to three days a week. I can hear my wife humming downstairs in the kitchen. I bet she burnt the bacon.
Our conversations in the morning usually go like this:
Me: “Great. Breakfast.” (Not excited).
Wife: “Oh yes! How do you want your eggs? Coffee is in the pot.” (Too excited, not normal).
Me: “Like every other day, sunny side up.” I will then proceed to drink coffee. I tend to drink 4-6 cups a day. I’ve given up on drinking and have to rely and a crazy caffeine buzz to get through the day.
Wife: Humming some fucking song. When she's done humming and sets the plate of food in front of me I notice the bacon is burnt, I knew this would happen.
Me: “You burnt the bacon.”
That is the usual conversation we have most mornings with different variations depending on what sort of food she plans on ruining.
I finish my food and a few cups of coffee and I begin to gather my things to leave for work. My wife believes I still work as an engineer for the city, but I actually quit three weeks ago. Everyday since then I grab my coffee to go, get into my Prius, turn on NPR and drive for awhile. Some days I'll go to the library and read a book, usually Stephen King, other days I'll go to the coffee shop and spend a good twenty dollars on cups of black coffee, but today I'll just drive around until my gas runs super low. Today shall be quite the adventure! My wife works in the prosecutors office downtown. She earns most of the wages around the house, yet she still puts up with me.
Meanwhile at the prosecutor's office, Wife is going down on her boss while he talks a conference call.
As I'm driving around trying to get the last drops or coffee out of my travel mug, I realize I'm really bored driving around in my quiet Prius. I notice there is a local coffee shop a block ahead and make that my destination. I'm glad too because I am out of coffee. My coffee addicted taste buds are tingling knowing their fix is coming. It's a really small European Bistro. I like these kinds of shops. I can get fancy croissants and several shots of espresso.
I am clearly way older than everyone else in the cafe, most look college age and are probably wondering what I am doing here? Shouldn't he have a job? Why isn't he at his job? I should break their little hearts and tell them that after they graduate college its downhill. I should hate their judgmental glares above their Macbooks, but I’ve given up caring about what other people think. I haven't shaved in weeks and I look like I reek of old coffee, sweat, and failure. Jokes on them, I only smell of sweat and failure! HA!
As I am trying to decide what I want to order the barista, a cute twenty something with short hair, says:
“Hi welcome to Cafe Francois! What would you like today?”
I don't know what I want and I stumble my words, “Uh es-coffe-oo...oh I mean I would like a small coffee and a double coffee.” I am actually embarrassed. I haven't been embarrassed in years!
“Fantastique! That would be $8.50! Is that for here or to go?”
I hand her my credit card, “For here, si vous plait.” She didn't get that I said yes in French and I just feel sorry for her. I wait while she is preparing my drinks, I literally twiddle my thumbs. Its not just an expression anymore! She hands me the drinks and says, “Have a bon day!” I take my seat at an empty couch and take my espresso like a shot of alcohol. I think its probably frowned upon, but I don't think anyone noticed me. I sort through their different magazines they offer their patrons and find a few month Time and decide to give a read. After a several more cups of coffee, my head is buzzing and I'm fucking FANTASTIQUE! Its time for me to leave before I can calculate how much I just blew at the “bistro.”
I realize as I 'm driving around that its already past five, I spent six hours drinking coffee and reading outdated magazines. I decide to head home and make it back before my wife. I pull into my spot in the drive way, and as I step out of the car the caffeine rushes to my head so fast I fall over and blackout. The next thing I know my wife is standing over me and lightly nudging me to wake up.
Wife: “Honey, you were passed out in the garage, is everything alright?”
I feel really weird and must have had a crazy caffeine black out. I can only make weird sounds and grumble.
Wife: “I know this is a bad time, but I don't think things are going well. Something is clearly wrong with you these past few months. I think we need to discuss our future and whether or not we should get a divorce. What do you think? Hmm?”
Me: “Fucking fantastique.”
Fin
