The Girl In the Coffee Shop
As she walks in the door
My heart skips a beat
Butterflies churn in my stomach
I freeze, unable to move
Unable to stop staring and glaring at this beautiful dream.
Faces around her are blurred as my view of her is
Magnified to the nth degree
She is beautiful
She is wonderful
She is a stranger to me.
As she approaches her table
She stumbles with the grace of a prima ballerina
Spilling coffee on her chair
Her luscious red lips move in soft, rhythmic motion.
“I’m sorry, what?” I mumble, realizing she just said something to me.
She spoke to me! What should I do? What dare I say?
We have been coming to this coffee shop
Sitting at the same tables
For months
But never have we spoken
And now she speaks to me.
“Oh sure, of course.”
She only wanted to use my napkins.
Did my voice really have to crack at that moment?
I go back to reading the paper
That might actually be upside-down in my hands.
Why am I such a fool?
Why can't I say “Hi” to her?
Is she that much out of my league?
I must venture an attempt
I must say something
“It’s a beautiful day today, isn’t it?”
Did I really say that?
Did I say it out loud?
Did I say it to her, or to the paper I am pretending to read?
She smiles at me
Looks out the front window
To the pouring rain
Splashing on the slush covered street
She smiles again
Like one smiles at a delusional, mad man
I go back to pretending to read my paper
Cursing my own stupidity
I hope, not out loud.
Enough of this silliness
I must tell her that she vexes me
I must let her know how beautiful she is
Yes it is a terrible day
But as soon as she entered the coffee shop
It became a beautiful day for me.
I must try to speak to her again.
“Look, I just want to say you are the most gorgeous person I have ever seen
I am a bumbling fool, I know,
But it is only because I am so intimidated by your beauty and am so maddened
By my inability to talk to you.”
Imagine my horror to hear these words escape my lips.
Imagine my shock when I look up to realize that she has left and I just professed my love to a dirty old man.
“Thanks. Do you have any spare change?” he asks through a toothless grin.
I am glad it is raining today.
People will think the tears on my face are from the rain.
Not only did he get my spare change, but also the ten-dollar bill that was to buy my lunch today as I quickly emptied my pockets on the way out of the embarrassment.
Until tomorrow. When I try once again.
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