Episode 26: Plain Old Three Leaf Clover

I flipped open the New York times and scanned my eyes over the multiple columns on who knows what. I could find nearly everything in this section of the newspaper. There were columns on fitness, properly waxing your car, and the multiple reasons to always use the dry cleaners. I was amazed. I read a few lines of each column to dabble my feet in the waters of cynical journalism. I’m not ordinarily a huge newspaper reader. I prefer Seventeen, Glamour, and Home Décor magazines; ok maybe not. I just don’t find much joy in reading something that is probably just going to change tomorrow. Sounds a lot like my life story. I read too far into hints and gestures and they all seem to change.

 

I took a sip of my coffee and sat back flipping through the rest of the mindless pages of the New York Times waiting for her to arrive. She told me it was urgent so I made it to the coffee shop 3 hours in advance to save a table. I’m paranoid like that. I would rather be some place exceedingly early than show up right on time. Besides, I needed a little time to myself.

 

I am prepared for anything today. If I’ve mastered the treacherous “feelings talk” in the same old coffee shop, the new boyfriend, tagging along as the prolonged engagement photographer, and watching a near death experience, I think I can handle anything…Almost anything.

 

The old familiar bell above the door chimes. I look to the counter to see the slacking workers shape back up to action and greet her as she enters the premises…red alert. As she is pacing the store looking for me I stand up and walk over to her. We greet each other with the one-armed hug and walk back over to the table where I am sitting. The first few minutes are small talk. I could tell something was really bothering her. She was really antsy today. But it was the unnerving kind, where she chaotically looked around the room as if she was being hunted by the secret police. It was hard to keep her attention for those first few minutes. I decided to take a bold step and ask: “Is there something bothering you?” I was in somewhat of a cynical mood considering the last memory I had of her was sitting a lone in a coffee shop on New Years Eve, while she was probably dancing the night away in a hospital lobby with a bunch of people dressed in scrubs drinking distilled apple juice from the cafeteria. I hadn’t shaved since then so my unsophisticated look was probably a factor in her schizophrenic behavior.

 

“I’m trying to find the best way to tell you this” she said, looking down at her hands. Bad news is second nature to me, so I made it a point to try not to show it in my face today. I still had no idea what she was getting at. If there was such a thing as “pacing the floor” while still sitting in a chair, she had it down. Her hands made sudden movements as if she was trying to remember what she had rehearsed hours before our meeting. Her eyes were bouncing off the walls of the room in every which direction, and every so often she would bite her lip searching for the right words to say.

 

I sat in silence staring right at her, hoping the awkwardness of the situation would con her into talking. After about 10 minutes of silence, she distinctly looked up from her hands and spoke. “I’m moving away,” she told me, as the tears began to flow down her face. “I took a job in Ohio working in the hospital as the head nurse.” She looked down as she continued: “I hope you understand this isn’t just a temporary job…I’m there to stay. They gave me a 5 year contract through the hospital.” I sheepishly smiled trying my best not to let the emotions get to me. I sat silently as the energized room buzzed around me. She looked me in the eye and reached across the table to grab my hand. I was too numb and too slow to pull it away knowing that would be the last time she would ever hold my hand. I looked up and saw the tears rolling down her face. Just then my eyes couldn’t hold it back any longer.

 

I told myself I would be ready for anything today, I guess I just didn’t expect this. I wished her the best of luck at her new job. I went through the typical spiel about not forgetting to write, and never hesitate to call, and I know you are going to do great things. She smiled at me; knowing how hard this was, she understood that everything I said was genuine. She looked down at her watch subtly trying to indicate that she needed to go. She looked up and took a deep breath. “There’s something I need to ask you…” she said with an intent look on her face. She paused for a moment and began to speak: “…

 

I closed the lid of my laptop and looked up just as the above-the-door fan conducted a surprise attack on its next victim. Abigale paced the floor of the local Starbucks probably looking for me. I stood up and waved as I made my way over to greet her with a hug. It had been what seemed like ages since we last saw each other. She sat down with a giant smile on her face. “I got accepted!” she told me pulling out the large orientation envelope. “With highest honors,” she continued. I smiled back and said: “that’s phenomenal! Congratulations!” I knew she would make it. It was never a matter of if, but when. She pulled out the large packet of information and read some of the FAQ’s on the back page of the packet. She thrives off of other peoples credibility towards the things she pursues; which really explains why she is going to the college she is. “According to the Harvard review,” she read, “Eastern Providence University was given five stars for academics and five stars for their student life programs; that makes ten stars!” I smiled and tried my best not to laugh.

 

She continued flipping through the pages of her packet and glanced up to smile every so often. “I’m really nervous,” she told me. I wasn’t sure exactly how to respond. I’ve already been through the first year shakes. Not that I’m an expert on college, seeing as though I’ve only been at it for 2 years now, but somehow I knew she’d be just fine. “College is great. Once you get going, you will have nothing to worry about,” I told her. “It seems like the scariest time of your life at first, but once you get the routine down, it’s not bad at all.” She smiled back as I reassured her she would do fine. “1200 miles away from home is along way,” she said looking down at the packet. I sat back and smiled knowing that is exactly the same thoughts I had in my head at that point in life. I looked down at the large manila envelope placed neatly under the laptop. It was the envelope I was planning on using to send the first draft of story to my old English teacher for edits and suggestions. She saw me eyeing it, and pulled it from its place. “The Caffeine Chronicles (in a low billowy, almost mocking, voice),” she read. I laughed as she continued to read the envelope. “What’s it about?” she asked. I looked back at her and smiled. “Oh it’s just something I’ve been writing on my free time; what little free time there is.” She laughed and placed the envelope back on the table.

 

“I leave in a few weeks for a preview weekend at school,” she told me. I stared out the window for a few seconds as I tried to picture what life may look like 3 years down the road. It was hard to tell. I was sitting in an Starbucks coffee shop where the bell above the door was replaced with an over-head fan, and the chalk menus were merely expensive looking photo boards, and I wasn’t wearing any baby blue jeans.

 

She noticed my absence in the conversation and tried to get my attention by talking about a subject that had to do with me. She asked how school was going, how much longer I had, and what I planned on doing when I graduated. I thought back to The Caffeine Chronicles and remembered the job working for the global communications company, and the apartment on the top floor of the complex. I simply looked back and said: “I don’t know just yet, I haven’t thought that far ahead.” (knowing very well that I had) Her phone rang as I finished up my sentence. She stood up and politely excused herself from the table. She came back and apologized for the long phone call. It was her best friend telling her about the school she got accepted into. I smiled and took another sip of my coffee. She glanced down at her watch. I knew from the familiar gesture she was about to tell me it was time to go. I finished the last bit of coffee in the bottom of my eco-friendly paper cup. She grabbed the packet of information and slid it into the large fancy envelope as she told me it was time to go. I uttered sarcastic comments in my head knowing that it always works like clockwork.

 

As I stood up from the table to grab my things, the large manila envelope fell to the ground. The first page of the Caffeine Chronicles slipped out. Abigale bent down to pick it up. She skimmed aloud over the first few lines: “I turned the corner and opened the door. The bell chimed at the local coffee house indicating to the workers one more caffeine-addicted customer has just entered the premises, red alert. I glare intently at the vast variety of choices outlined by the colorful chalk menu board above the counter…” and then smiled as she slipped it back into the large envelope. “Seems pretty interesting,” she said as she handed me the envelope.

 

We both walked outside across the parking lot to our cars. It was a bitter cold day in December. The 13^th to be exact. As we reached the point where we would go our separate directions she turned and said: “You never answered my question about what the Caffeine Chronicles was about.” I smiled as I zipped up my jacket. Snowflakes began to fall and the sky clouded over. I turned back to her and said: “Maybe one day you’ll know.” 

Episode 25: Riding the treadmill to my grave

The cool brisk air clinched to the back of my neck as I stepped out of the coffee shop. The neatly fashioned fur on my new coat didn’t quite do the trick today, but it was enough to keep me warm. I wasn’t quite sure how to get used to wearing fur. I have always thought fur was a woman’s trademark. You don’t really hear commercial jingles about a man asking for a fur coat for Christmas. I felt like a wannabe calvin klein model walking down the street today. There was a certain mood in the air. It was a good one. I guess it could be described as the pre-new years resolution attitude. It is notorious for all the people who will spend the 31^st of December doing almost anything they want just because they know that when January 1 rolls around they have to attempt to look like they are actually trying their new years resolution out for size.

 

I can’t honestly say that was the only reason for my smile today. I think I am still feeling the effects of Christmas day. I had her gift wrapped neatly under the tree, and I sat on my Lazy boy for about an hour Christmas morning trying to muster up enough motivation and excitement to see what was beneath the neatly wrapped paper. I tore open the paper to find a photo album. As I flipped through the pages, I was nearly brought to tears of joy as I gazed upon the number of candids that filled its pages. Candids mainly of us and our journey over these last few months. I couldn’t stop looking at them all day. The nerdy part of me comes out when I look at photographs. I am always looking for compositional value. These were absolutely priceless; I couldn’t have asked for a better gift.

 

Although it was bitterly cold on this new years eve, I was still warm inside as I continued to soak my mind with the images from the album. There was one in particular that I consider my favorite one. She had her camera sitting on the table at some point and I was able to capture her just after she sneezed. The face was priceless. It looked like she was impersonating someone from a 80’s glam rock video. She bothered me about it for hours as I begged her not to delete it. When I stumbled across that one my face lit up.

 

It amazes me how empty everything is today. I walked into the local gym to experiment with those stationary running machines…oh yeah treadmills. Whoever came up with the treadmill was an absolute genius. There is nothing like the art of irony like creating a machine that allows you to run (or in most cases walk) without even leaving the room. If you ask me I just think it is absolute laziness. “look at me hun, I don’t even have to leave the room.” Their down fall was when they let people control the speed. There isn’t just a simple setting that says run, walk, jog, or sprint. That would just be too simple. So after 2 minutes and 30 seconds of pondering such madness, I jumped off the treadmill soaking up the sweat from my brow.

 

As I passed the counter on my way out of the gym I saw customer service setting up ropes to make standing in line more organized. I wondered if they were having some kind of special even there at the gym the next day, but then I was reminded that it was New Years Day tomorrow and there will probably be half the population of America standing in line at the local 24 hour fitness to get a membership, while the other half will still be attempting to get out of bed; I included.

 

I could probably spend the rest of the day trying to figure out what I was going to do this new years eve, but I decided making plans only stresses me out, and my doctor says: “no stress or else.” Or else what? I feel like I’m hiding a dirty little secret when I stress out. I haven’t thought about making a new years resolution just yet. Who knows maybe something I see will inspire me to make one.

 

I sat in the front seat of the car thinking about my next spontaneous location while listening to talk radio. Its been a while since I have had the time to listen to talk radio. Not that I enjoy it much. It tends to compete with my cynicism. I have a hard time focusing on what they are trying to get at these days anyways. It is all filled with so much political jargon and opinionated garbage about irrelevant issues like organic cat food and automatic seatbelts for the 90’s pintos. It is however soothing white noise to have playing in the background as the foreground of my mind contemplates my next step.

 

I have always wanted to simply spend New Years Eve sitting in a coffee shop filled with simple people sipping Italian coffee and reading romance novels. It just seems so peaceful. I have have always imagined what midnight would look like in an environment like that. I can imagine the Jazz music playing in the background as people sit across the table from each other discussing philosophy, books, or other intelligent paraphernalia, while I sit in a corner with a good book and a hot steaming cup of java. Then all of a sudden the clock strikes midnight and the whole coffee shop roars with laughter and cheer ringing in the New Year. At 12:01 people go back to what they are doing and all is well.

 

As I was having my sappy day dream about such a night, the vibrating sensation from my pant pocket brought my back to reality. Just because I was in such a good mood today, I decided to answer my phone before letting it ring past the chorus of “I’ve got nerve.” Of course it was her on the other line; who else? She seemed like she was in a good mood. I asked her if she had any good plans for the evening; all the while I was still envisioning the perfect new years. She mentioned the reason for calling was to see if I had any plans. I selfishly told her of my idea of the perfect evening. I was rather surprised to get the response I did. I expected to hear that I could do much better on a night such as new years, but it wasn’t like that at all. She said that sounded like something she would totally go for. I asked her if she was able to join me. I was in too good of a mood to notice her somewhat apprehensive response, but she agreed to participate.

 

I went back to the apartment to grab a good book in the event of a worst-case scenario. I sat at the kitchen table thumbing through the album a few more times before I left. It is more like a drug than it is a Christmas present. I couldn’t help looking at it so much. The photos brought back so many memories. Mostly good, some bittersweet, and the rest were just simple. I flipped to the back page of the album and noticed a note sticking out of one of the pages. I pulled it out and glanced over it. “I thought you would enjoy these candid photos, I know how much you love pictures so I was hoping to make your season special with pictures. Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year…your friend…” I wasn’t quite sure how to react to the whole friend comment. I mean at least it wasn’t marked “with love.” I’m sure I would have gotten more fired up about that, but considering all we’ve been through I was somewhat taken back by the signature. Oh well, its insignificant. I’m most likely just reading too far into it like I always do.

 

I hopped in the car and drove to the coffee shop awaiting her arrival. As I walked through the door, the environment was all I had hoped for. It was already off to a great start. There were people sitting and talking at tables, the jazz music was playing in the background, and a number of people were curled up by the fire reading romance novels. I stood in line to order my large cup of java before settling into a long night; one that was going to be all I had ever hoped for. I grabbed my coffee and sat down at a table in the corner of the room. I showed up an hour early so I could be sure to find a place to sit. I was made sure no one stole the empty chair across. Almost an hour passed by and I was lost in my book that I didn’t even recognize the time. I looked up and noticed the sun sinking below the horizon line welcoming the night to come. I glanced at my watch recognizing that she was almost 15 minutes late.

 

I set my book on the table and stared at the door for a while hoping that by me actually staring at it she would magically walk on through. I found that doesn’t work too well. It works just as well as me talking to my phone hoping she would call. I have had to learn to find contentment in the blunt reality that telepathic communication just doesn’t work. Another hour passed by as I sat justifying my reasons not to call her hoping that she would find her way here. I came up with all sorts of creative reasons as to why she could possibly be late. Everything from traffic, to not being able to find her favorite brand of lip gloss in that giant purse of hers. But no matter how much I pondered, nothing seemed to stick.

 

It was 10:45 when I last glanced at my watch. I looked around the room and people were preparing themselves for the hour count down to bring in the new year. I was still trying to coordinate my new years plans. I glanced down at my phone just as it started ringing. I sighed with relief hoping this would shed some light on the current situation. “Uhhhh…..” This can’t be good. Nothing good ever comes out of a conversation that starts with “uhhhhh.” She vaguely attempted to explain that at the last minute she was invited to a New Years party with ‘some people from the hospital.’ She told me they guilt tripped her into going and she was really sorry. I think she must have repeated that every other sentence. I honestly didn’t know how to respond. She “promised” she would make it up to me somehow. I was still trying to dig for that Sharpe pain in my coronary region. I don’t know if it was out of anger or stupidity but I decided to be bold. “Is he gunna be there?” that otta blow things wide open. She paused for a moment and said: “As a matter of fact he’s the one who invited me. I thought it was the least I could do after calling off the wedding.” I can honestly say I know what the term heartache literally means now. The rest of the conversation was a blur. She repeated to tell me how bad she felt and how nothing is gunna change between us, and all I could hear was blah blah blah. I was unintentionally zoning her out while trying to find myself so to speak. We said our goodbyes and I hung up the phone. I glanced back at the book I was reading and continued to try to read to keep my mind off of things.

 

The pages became smeared by the tears I was fighting to choke back. You know the feeling of trying to choke back tears so no one knows your crying. My face probably looked like I had just take a bite out of a lemon as I attempted to let the tears run back into their ducts. The 10 minute warning until the new year flashed across the monitor as everyone in the shop became rather restless. The last ten minutes I sat watching everyone around me. As Dick Clark began the final countdown and nearly everyone in the room was positioning themselves to ring in the new year. The ball began to drop in New York City and as it finally hit the bottom, the room became a scene from a sappy romance movie where everyone was kissing their significant other at midnight.

 

There was roaring laughter and cheer, just as I had hoped for; all except for me. I sat dormant in the corner of the room as the clock struck 12:00 January 1. It was the picture perfect setting. Everything down to the Italian coffee and philosophical discussion. I looked around the room and everyone was taken in by their other-halves. I sat alone watching it all unfold.

 

I stood up from my seat and grabbed my fur jacket and novel and headed towards the door. It was 12:13 January 1^st. I placed my hand against the cold metal frame of the door and glanced back at the crowd of people. I think I may finally have my New Years resolution.