Anna S.
Humor-lover from all walks of life, Anna likes listening to music and hanging out with her friends in Connecticut. I love laughing in general and can also be very serious. You can find me @annarubadubdub
Humor-lover from all walks of life, Anna likes listening to music and hanging out with her friends in Connecticut. I love laughing in general and can also be very serious. You can find me @annarubadubdub
Grind, grind, grind, go the coffee beans at this cafe.
“Anna?” shouted the barista in his frankly gay coffee garb. “Thanks” I replied, my eyes glazed over to hell. I was there to enjoy my day.
I took my seat and began whipping out the things I wanted in front of me. Notebook after notebook shot out of my backpack into my hands and onto the table. Behind me a couple walked in. They each had their own individual vibe and style but had a combined vibe as well. These are not people I would probably hang out with at home, but here we are getting on just fine being near each other thinking about our common value of drinking some coffee today and letting our auras comingle into a brown.
To be in public is to sign the social contract: “Look at me for a few minutes and you can guess my insecurities, but damn if that isn’t just a two-way street you just found yourself on.” This is a good contract because it is a good way to catch people and get your Jordan Peterson on. For example, the lady next to me is taking forever to write a letter. I now know that she is slow mentally and likes to eat slowly and have sex slowly. Eastern medicine tells us this.
Another couple just walked in. I guess people are getting nakie dirty up in here today! No skin off my back.
A different, we’ll say bi, barista is now leaning against the bar on her phone. I can’t imagine what she is contending with on that thing - a phone can become a secret portal to ad hoc gambling or ad hoc porn usage, even fights with her boyfriend or girlfriend that she smartly started to have something to do during the work day. There is no room for judgment in a morally relativistic setting like this, so that’s not what this is. At times, there is no room for commentary either, but boldly go I.
The entrance of a man with a ponytail down to his ass knocks me out of the humanitarian trance I had to enter to write eloquently about sex and culture. I’ve seen this man before. He pulls up to the shop in the range. Gotta be in real estate.
At this point, uninspired by my surroundings, I retreat into my mind palace - something that has become habitual for moi. Sometimes I’ll go there to beg God for a moment of relief, other times it is more like I remember something and then think about it. This could be funny jokes or something I saw.