"I don't know how it happened, but suddenly, I realized I was surrounded by crazy people. You see, before it, I was dwelling with myself, wondering if I was mad or just sober. The truth is, I wasn't wholly sober all the time, but yet, sometimes alcohol can bring us some clarity."
His eyes looking up, suspiciously staring at me while he enjoyed the coffee. I thought he was an interesting man, but I couldn't tell if he was in total denial or actually had a point. I pondered about saying something for a second, but then I decided to nod only.
He continued: "Well, there I was with this mid-forties woman telling me that I should have paid the restaurant bill last time ."
I looked at him with a blank expression, unsure if I should encourage the conversation or not. Then, while he took a large gulp of coffee, I saw him rolling his eyes. It was just a glimpse, which he promptly gaslight me by opening a big and broad smile. Until now, I still don't know if I had caught a look of disdain or not, and like many other things, he just kept me wondering.
"You know, she said that two men having lunch with a lady should take care of the check." He paused again and stared at me, checking I was following him or not. Again, I stared him back with an intentional blank expression.
"Anyway, the lady, who referred to herself as girl or chick"– he added sarcastically– "told me a ‘girl’ like her should be taken care of by her friends. And she completed saying that's what people like us do." And he stopped there. Another pause followed by a loud remark: "You see, people like us! She included me!"
I yawned internally while he completed: "That's one of the first moments I clearly remember thinking to myself: who are these people?"
I took a deep breath that wasn't planned and didn't go unnoticed. It just happened, and before I could try to hold it back, the man's eyes told me he had seen it. He stared at me with big judging eyes, which made me think of a line from a movie: "I'm quietly judging you."
“Well, that makes two of us”– I thought to myself. “Yeah, I was judging you too.” But, right after completing this thought, I immediately felt guilty. Behind the man's outrageousness, I could detect a much darker feeling. He looked defeated. It wasn't like he was too old –in fact, he looked younger for his age– but he was beaten by life.
We stayed there in silence for a minute that felt too long and too meaningful. Of course, we would keep on the stare battle longer, but, for a minute, there was a truce.
"My point is that we make friends in life; we age together with them. But our lives take different paths, pulling us closer and pushing us apart as we navigate the changes." Now he sounded existential and philosophical, almost spiritual. My heart clenched fist-tight to the point it hurt. I totally could relate to what he was saying, yet at the same time, I thought I was maybe too young still to fully comprehend it. But my heart hurt just the same. I thought of my friends who I hadn't seen in so many years; life suddenly felt so lonely as I realized that I hadn't had a meaningful conversation with someone for a long while.
"We change, you know. We don't even notice it, but other people do. There's so much left unsaid and so much said that is entirely unnecessary. Like, I don't care that she thinks she is on a different level. Do I have anything in common with this person anymore?"
I remembered thinking the same thing while lunching with a friend not long ago. It was like I saw this person for the first time while I listened to her babbling about women's empowerment and questioning why her boyfriend didn't propose. All in the same sentence. I was looking at her and thinking: "where do you come from?"
Sighing deeply, I pushed that memory away, focusing on the man in front of me. Words kept coming out of his mouth, but I couldn't help dazing out. He wasn't old; he was charming with an odd combination of a certain snobbish flair mixed with a boyish attitude.
"My other friend drinks so much that she can't walk straight every time we go out for dinner. The other friend complains about her partner's infidelities while egging me to be unfaithful. Not mentioning the boomerang friend. This one finds a way to turn every topic about her. It is plain embarrassing” He shook his head before saying: “But you know, I wonder what they think of me too?". I chuckled, thinking his friends probably had lots to say about him. Arrogant and conceited were the first words that popped up in my mind. I could swear he was reading my mind. However, I think he had passed in caring about what people thought of him. Myself instead, I was too caught up with other people's judgment all the time. I liked to think I wasn't, but that wasn't true. I cringed, thinking about what people thought of me.
"My best friend became so politicized that she only talks about politics. And I don't even know if we are best friends anymore. She never calls or texts, but I supposed she has a lot on his plate too... Life doesn't get easier as we grow older. So much baggage, you know."
I thought of my best friend that I didn't talk to much either these days except some random short boozy text. I felt guilty for not calling and not showing much interest in his life too. I feared losing the connection altogether. “I wonder what he thinks of me?”– I felt terribly lonely again.
Another gulp of coffee, and he went on saying that "somehow, someway, we manage to stay friends with some. But here and there, I find myself thinking that I am talking to a disturbingly familiar stranger… How did we get here? What happened to us?"
"How did I get here?"– I thought to myself. I'm always so unattached to the world that randomly listening to this man got me thinking of things I haven't thought about in ages. I guess he heard my thoughts because then he popped this one out: "You think of these things all the time. It is like a backdrop or white noise; it's always there whether you realize it or not. Sometimes they pop up to the surface, but most of the time, they just make us react to things without ever being aware of them. Frustration, resentment, loss... They are always there."
That whole psychological and existential spiel was way too much for me at that time of the day. Words were almost coming out of my mouth, and I felt like I was about to tell him how pathetic and self-righteous he sounded. "It's my turn to let you know about a few truths about life."– I thought. I went on thinking to myself: “Starting with you are not as good and wise as you think you are.” But that's when on a clumsy move, I spilled coffee all over my off-white sweater. Instead of few truths what came out of my mouth was simply: “Shit!”
He didn't blink. Showing no emotion at all, he just offered me a tissue. Stretching his long arms, waving a tissue in his hand, he said: "There, use this."
I excused myself to go to the restroom, but halfway there, I took a turn as I decided I needed a cigarette. As I walked out of the door, I saw him following my move with his eyes. Again, no expression.
"God bless tobacco!"– I thought to myself as I took a long drag of Marlboro. Outside, in the cold morning, I let a colossal smoke out while I watched him sitting inside, still sipping his coffee. Strangely his image merged with mine on the shop's large glass window reflection. I saw my gaunt figure juxtaposed to his, and I thought how much hunkering down for months had taken a toll on me. I didn't like the way I looked– I looked hopeless.
Meanwhile, now he looked completely unaware of me smoking outside. I felt sad for him and for myself. Both caught up on our own thoughts; those thoughts that we aren't aware of most of the time. That background white noise made me storm out of the shop, hoping to breathe while I inhale tobacco. Suddenly I was fully aware of where I was and everything around me. I thought of the city I loved and hated so much at the same time. I thought of my life that seemed to take radical turns from time to time and questioned what was behind it. I thought of my hopeless self reflected on the glass window, and I thought of how much of myself I saw on that man sitting inside.
"What happened to us? "– I couldn't stop thinking of it. I felt the heavy burden of awareness falling on me. All the insecurities and self-doubt I disguised behind my carefully crafted and well-thought-out aloofness. I was a fraud, as much as this sad man sitting inside the coffee shop is. Him and all his friends. I looked around at the bubble I’d chosen to live in, realizing that the bubble was much bigger than I thought. The modern, hip, and detached urban bubble that I was so sick of. I tried to collect myself. I fixed the hair, adjusted my sweater and skirt, and consider putting some lipstick on: “Ugh, I look terrible!” As I approached the rotating door, looking at the man inside through the window, I wondered how it would be if I was a man? If I was this man. But then he wasn't there anymore. As I crossed the door and walked into the shop, I couldn't find him anymore. He disappeared in thin air, leaving me there wondering if this meeting had ever happened. I had lost him as much weirdly I felt I missed him.