Sitting Witty

I'm sitting at a counter at Peet's Coffee in Pleasant Hill with my laptop open in front of me. There's a large glass window in front of me facing the street. Peet's is on the corner of an intersection; foot traffic is fairly consistent. Right now there's a young man sitting right in front of me--outside on a bench. If the window weren't here, I could reach out and rub his buzzed head. Some guys don't look good in buzzed heads. This one does. But I have still never seen anyone with a more beautifully shaped head than Clayton! He keeps his head buzzed and still lets me rub it once in awhile. (Thanks Budster!)

This guy looks like he's in his twenties. Has a couple of days of stubble, wearing a navy blue t-shirt and jeans. Acts like he's waiting for someone...oh, here she is. Curly blondish brown hair in a pony-tail. Sun-glasses on top of her head. Tiny silver hoops and even tinier stud earrings. Black t-shirt. Beige cargo pants. She sits down right next to him, close. He pulls his arm from the back of the bench and puts it around her instead. Now there are two heads within touching distance. She just turned and she's looking into his face. Her eyes are blue. I'm trying not to stare. She kisses his cheek. She's in love with him, obviously. He's rubbing her back now while she talks to him. The glass must be tinted from the outside because they're oblivious to my presence. I can read her lips if I try, but I won't. What a way to eavesdrop on someone's life! Ok, she just stood up and ran across the street to her car. Now she's walking down the street, out of sight. Maybe she's going to run into a store. There are so many wonderful shops down here.

I remember when this area was a few scummy businesses, including a decrepit bowling alley and some empty littered fields. There was one fabulous gourmet cheese shop though. I used to go there once in a great while. One time the owner noticed the car I was driving--a 1972 Renault. I told him it was my 'Flintstone car' and he said in his strong French accent, "What? No bottom?" We laughed. Now this area is modern and beautiful with banks, restaurants, Bed Bath and Beyond, Michael's, a Hallmark store...It's the new mecca for yuppies young and old.

Ok, now the young man is taping his fingers on the bench. Waiting. She probably won't be long. Oh, here she is again. Aha! I was right...she's carrying a bag...sandwiches. That was fast. She must have called ahead. They unwrap their food and they're both eating now with gusto. My guess is that he works near-by and she's met him on his lunch break. A big red-headed guy on a bicycle has just stopped to talk to them.One foot on the ground and one resting on a bike pedal. He reminds me of a combination of Shane and a young Danny Bonaducci (Partridge family brat for those too young to remember). They seem to all know each other. He looks through the glass right at me. I look back at my computer screen. The young man sitting on the bench turns and glances at me briefly but I keep typing, pretending to ignore them. Not quite as fun now that they know I'm here. A shirtless man with a six-pack runs by with a black lab and a golden setter in tow. Wow...Come back!....

They're fast eaters. He finishes first. She probably takes smaller bites like I do. She keeps sucking the tips of her fingers. Now she's leaning against him. It's 12:25. Does he get a thirty minute lunch or an hour? My guess is 1/2 hour, or they would have probably met at the Greek place down the street, or Sweet Tomatoes. What a beautiful day. The sun is out, but they're in the shade of the awning. They stand up to leave. She shoulders her leather bag and they walk away holding hands. They disappear around the corner, out of my sight.

A gray haired man sits down now. Plaid flannet shirt jacket, baby heinz on a leash, newspaper in hand...oh, never mind. At this rate I'll never get anything done. Time to get to work on my thesis.