Coffee and Cake
I was sitting alone in a café because I figured I should probably get out and be around people for once. So I started watching this guy.
He had just walked up to the counter. Short blond hair. Shorts. Headphones. And those pale eyes that made me nervous immediately.
I was, of course, being completely subtle about it.
As if I were deeply focused on my book.
As if I had any idea what was actually written on the page.
I think it was something about desire and longing.
I must have read the same paragraph four times.
At some point I even pulled out my silver pencil and started underlining random sentences just to look busy.
“Oh God.”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” I muttered to myself.
And just like that, I was searching again.
For a sign.
Anything.
I stared at the tattoo on his leg. A red heart with an arrow through it.
As if the answer might somehow be hidden in there.
Fuck.
Maybe the way he sat meant something.
Maybe the headphones.
Maybe the way he held his iced coffee.
Complete nonsense.
I knew it.
I could feel it.
And still I didn’t stop.
My brain was already dissecting every movement.
Looking for clues.
Trying to figure out whether I could somehow force him into my world.
The version where he’s standing outside a supermarket waiting for me, slightly annoyed because I’ve taken ten minutes longer than I said I would.
As if, somewhere on him, written in tiny invisible letters, was the answer to who he could be for me.
And all I had to do was keep looking.
Something.
Damn it.
A sign.
Apparently a pair of shorts, a tattoo, and three minutes of observation were already enough for me to start planning a dog adoption.
I wonder if he likes French Bulldogs.
God, what nonsense.
I rolled my eyes, finished my now cold coffee, and decided I could at least walk past him once.
It already felt ridiculous the moment I stood up.
Still, I went.
As I walked by, I took a deep breath through my nose.
Hoping his scent would somehow confirm the entire fantasy.
It didn’t.
Samu
Samu, FREE ADVICE YOU DIDN”T ASK FOR! You write about this experience as if it was a bad thing. I maintain it isn’t! It wasn’t! We are gay. We are gay men. Gay men are attracted to other men. But in our world there are still so many unspoken words, unnoticed glances, many missed opportunities, hidden yearnings. So we go into these fantasy dreams of what if.k As you did. Wouldn’t it be nice if you could just go up to him and introduce yourself. If he was a she you might have. In a different world you should have. Wouldn’t it be nice if you could just offer to buy him a coffee? If he was a she you could have. In a different world you should have. But in our world, with you as a he, we fantasize. But it it wrong? No. It is the nature of being gay. It is the nature of wanting to be loved. It is the nature of wanting to be loved by another man. And some day, if you don’t chase it, it will find you. I believe that. I believe in you. Fondly, Michael
This made me smile so much.
The way the mind can build an entire small future from one stranger, one tattoo, and one iced coffee… painfully accurate.
Wanting a sign, knowing it’s nonsense, and still looking anyway.
Also: the French Bulldog took me out.