The Café Crowd

I’m at a cafe listening to some people in chairs having a passionately belligerent political debate involving many obscure economic facts that I can’t repeat because I don’t remember. One guy spoke angrily over the others about the reality of these facts, how there are too many idiots who don’t care about empirical data, which is pragmatically more important than belief or tradition, and his friend agreed, then he walked away confident and proud as if he just had great sex, and that the release of tension is the only thing that matters and makes everything okay and nobody’s all that afraid. He swaggered and smiled and said hi to a hyper little girl holding a dead bird and walked into the cafe to maybe use the restroom or something

then these two girls walk in and almost bump into another child. They’re tall and leggy and wearing giant heels and one is wearing these shorts that let her ass hang out. They sit down and the one with the ass starts talking business, about what sounds like PR stuff, and the other fills out paperwork, then the one with the ass starts telling the other to not let anyone touch her for any reason and to have a backup name in case her clients don’t believe her first one and that she has her number so she should call if she has any questions, and I realize that this is a job interview for a position as a stripper

and so this old man is pounding on the bathroom door, cranking the doorknob as if it’s stuck, and the person in there is probably a little scared. I think this girl sitting by the counter keeps flipping her hair so she can turn her head towards me to make eye contact, but I might be wrong and I couldn’t believe her smile which left me sinking, fading, vacant and I wish this kid standing too close to me would stop pouring packets of sugar in his mouth

and somehow I’m surrounded and alone at the same time and when I look forward to death I can’t tell if I’m energized or exhausted