At the moment, I’m doing one of my favorite things: sitting in a bookstore drinking tea and writing. I just finished up an email to the wonderful Cassie of Witty Title Here, and had this pull to write a new post for the blog. When I first sat down at a small table in the cafe section of the bookstore, I decided to look around and observe. On the other side of the counter sitting at a four-seater was a man in a pink Oxford shirt, a book splayed out in front of him on the table with his head dipped, eyes closed. He reminded me of my co-worker who nods off during wor… Never mind. Wouldn’t want to get him in trouble. Then I noticed the barista working the counter. Her hair was dark and wavy, pulled back in a low pony tail. She had a young, angular face – college, maybe. Her arms flowed over the register as she helped customers, and I thought how if I were working there I would be pulling at my fingers and looking around too much.
I like watching people who are at ease with strangers, where it’s not a big deal to ask them what they want, how’d they like their coffee, and oh, what a lovely blouse you’re wearing, where did you get it? Even thinking about talking to people so casually tightens my chest and shallows my breathing. Even people constantly walking by my table to get where they need going makes me nervous and they’re not even paying me any attention. I’m not sure what’s wrong with me, why I’m so afraid of people. God doesn’t want me to be fearful of people, yet it’s like this disease that paralyzes me. For instance, there’s this guy sitting at another table in front of me doing something on his phone nearly at eye level and I’m suspicious that he’s taking my picture.
I’m actually sitting here sort of hoping that Tin Roof Kyle wanders in, although he’s probably on base doing push-ups or something more productive than aimlessly wandering through a bookstore waiting to run into me again. That’s kind of ridiculous, isn’t it? Me thinking we’ll run into each other again. I’m aware it could actually happen, and I keep telling myself that if it’s meant to happen it will happen eventually. I even had the thought today that he could possibly be deployed soon and then I’ll never see him again. But something about that thought didn’t seem right, it didn’t worry me as much as it should have. I don’t know if this is because I’m prophesying he won’t be leaving town anytime soon or if I’m just less concerned with him than I think I am. But thinking about him as frequently as I do doesn’t make it seem that way. Okay, I’m going to stop talking about him now.
Someone just came and bought this deliciously chocolatey cupcake from the cafe, and now I want to shove deliciously chocolatey cupcake down my throat. But I will resist. I actually have to leave in a few minutes anyway. I’m babysitting tonight, even though I’m not really good with kids. I guess it’s a good thing Em will be there, too, because she’s great with kids. I keep telling myself that I will be great with my own kid one day, even if I’m not great with other people’s kids right now. It’s just that I’m always nervous they’re going to throw a toy truck at me or something. I should really stop being so nervous about everything.