He Hangs 'Round

December 29, 2013

     He seems lonely, the guy hanging out, yet another night, after the coffee shop closes, watching the comely young women sanitize the countertops, meticulously scour the espresso machine, leaning over the mop to scrub the tiled floor. The ladies are too polite, and a bit intimidated, to ask him to leave the premises. Perhaps he feels deserved, after spending hours lounging around the front table, checking his emails, lurking with a recent innocuous publication in his lap, perusing the baked goodie bags marked down to a few dollars, white crisp sacks that line up along the stainless to lure the frugal clientele. The little man purchased a 12 ounce brew, not needing to demand his usual ceramic cup to slurp in-house. The girls arch eyebrows over his head and nod in agreement. He should not be in the shop yet, at least they are in a clump, keeping an eye on one another until one finally latches the door behind his shadow. Giggles of relief leave their mouths, not truly realizing they were more than a bit on-edge as he scattered his weird energy around their bodies.