At a Cafe

Posted: Friday, April 02, 2010

I'm sitting directly behind a young couple. They aren't talking to each other. Just sitting and staring out the window in opposite directions.

When the girl gets up to go to the bathroom, the boy keeps turning around to see if she's coming back soon. She has long hair, but tucks it under her hoodie.

He looks like an uglier, younger, more zit-covered version of Billy Idol.

I can't stop trying to guess what's going on with them. I keep thinking about aborted fetuses and miscarriages in the mall bathroom.

But that's probably far more morbid and depressing than their lives actually are.

Or maybe they're homeless and spend their days sitting in cafes.

Or maybe his father beats him with a belt so now he lives with her and her family in their shag-carpeted trailer in Lemon Creek.

Or maybe they're stoned, or hung over.

Or maybe they're the happiest people in the world and they're just being quiet because they're so happy that they don't need to say anything to each other.

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