at the café

“What are you going on about? I’d be your eyes and Lucy’d be your ears.”

“This again? I never agreed to be mute nor blind. I just asked you two, and very kindly in that manner, to leave me be. Clearly, you two fools are not even capable of remembering what I told you.”

People at the café seemed intrigued by the conversation happening so far, yet no one bothered to take a look. They might have been a little distressed, as the current mood of the song playing behind indicated.

Lucy was out of the on-going dispute that reoccurred whenever John had one too much to drink. She knew reasonably well what happened that night, but it was always John and/or his dog that tried to convince the other as to what led the way to that moment.

“Lucy, come on. You know we agreed to do so, don’t make me out to be the crazy person here.”

Lucy was too good of a friend to let John alone in his frenzy. She still was mad, though. “Why don’t you ask her?” she yelped. John seemed to be excited for a second after hearing Lucy’s scarlet voice, but he knew he had to play his hand well. He skimmed through the café to be sure whether there was actually one “her” that he could ask, but the music candidly responded as negative.

“You cannot possibly still be angry about that night!”

Oh, little did he know. She was madder than mad. She knew, however, how to play her hand.

As per usual, Lucy, in her go-to seat, seemed interested in nothing. Not the people ‘round, not the way she presented herself, not even the way of flirting. She was nodding along to the music, and nothing more. John knew her well enough to regain her interest.

“Well, even if I ‘would’ ask her, I still want to hear what you have to say about it.”

That would normally be enough to get Lucy and her tender voice back into the debate, but she seemed way too interested in nothing and did not bother to reply. John knew something was up.

“You see? I told you, you are nothing but a fool: she does not care about the way you flirt. Go grab something for her, idiot.”

The round-keepers seemed to enjoy that last part of the conversation as the women around took one meaningful look at John. He didn’t stutter: “Lucy, would you care to ask for something?”

“One dry white, not that martini crap again” she answered without catching his eye. John took the order as the highest possible order there is and went straight to the bar: “One glass of white, please.”

“And for the lady?” asked, articulately, the bartender, looking capable of mixing anything he might grab. “Anything on ice,” replied John.

“Don’t be mad at him. You know he can’t further change his nature.”

“What did I miss?” asked John as he brought the lady’s mis-order and the left-over. Seeing Lucy still not interested in him, he took one deep breath: “Oh, I love this song.”

We haven’t had that spirit here

Since 1969

“Do you still hear those voices, Milady?”

He knew he was depressing her, and he knew she liked it. Lucy’s lips parted for a second; and not for a second more: a pressed-lip smile. John knew he was on the right track.

“You lustful abomination, how do you live with yourself?"

John took one big sip from the booze he didn’t know the content of, and peered straight into Lucy: there was still nothing and nothing more to see. He opened his black bag and grabbed the treat he had ready-to-go: “Well, Mocha, this one is for being the bestest girl.”

“You cannot blind me with such treats, but I do be the bestest girl.”

John’s dog did one splendid trick before approaching him, and everyone around were over-excited for both the solo had started playing and Mocha somehow caught its rhythm while eating the treat.

“Lucy, do you still think we are better off as friends?” Lucy answered as if she did not hear the heart-break in his voice: “Oh, why yes, John, I definitely think that we are better off as friends. You are one unfaithful boyfriend except for when it comes to me or that dawg of yours, and you better know that this is not enough.”

John knew this was not enough, but it was all he could do. He had tried everything to be more-than-friends with Lucy, but life never approved of the two together. They were colleagues after all, and the gossip around the corporate was already more than what Lucy had readied herself for when she started her new life.

“Why is it always you three whenever I want my coffee to go?” The head of the PR woman, whose name Lucy never bothered to learn, for the fifth time in two weeks, sneaked up on them.

“Oh hey Helen, this place we actually adore.” replied John, making Lucy want to puke for a second. Helen, who was a cat-woman, took one glimpse at his dog and wondered out loud: “How do you handle all the barking?”

“It’s nothing if you actually love them.”

Both John and Helen, in addition to the rest of the people at the café, seemed intrigued to hear Lucy speak without being spoken to. Lucy took another sip, and reached for John’s pack of smokers-die-younger.

“I see you’ve grown to love them, have you not Lucy?” asked rather surprised Helen as she downed herself to the free chair. She, of course, groped her own pack whilst John was contemplating whether lighting one would be appropriate or not. He decided not to do so, as the current song seemed like a conversation for the ladies and ladies only.

He was wrong as not one more word was heard until the cigarettes were burnt up to their butts, only looks were exchanged. John couldn’t help the silence: “What brings you here Helen?”

“Oh, nothing but the scent of the coffee. I’ll be getting on my way though, see you two on Monday!” she exclaimed as she took one last regard to the sitting three. John smoked his lucky one left in the pack, as he knew the day was done.

“Do I have to bark whenever you two are wandering away?”