I observed him carefully as he walked to the door. I knew that time was running out but suppressed the urge to check my watch. I took a deep breath and started counting in reverse under my breath. “Ten, nine, eight, seven, six,five,four, three, two, one.”
3:00 PM; as always. The man would always come here, the same place, place an order for a black coffee to go, adjust his wrist watch, tidy his cuffs and with a smile and a nod would take his order and head out.
Today would be different, so I had thought. I wasn’t the one serving his order. I wouldn’t be the one on the other side of the counter. I had it all planned. I would sit near the corner table near the door; and when he enters I would see him, in all his sophistication and when he is on his way out, I would casually bump into him thereby starting a conversation with him.
I don’t know when I became obsessed with him.
Maybe I was bored, maybe I needed something to spice up my life. But being a 23 year old working at a coffee shop in one of the busiest IT hubs of the state is enough for everyone to go crazy. Whatever be the case; I was in need of some action, some spice, I don’t know, maybe one crazy moment in my life and so this haywire of a story came into being.
So back to the present. There I was in one of my cute dresses- a yellow sundress, open at the back, reaching just above my knee. I had my reading glasses on and a book in front of me. Of course I wasn’t paying attention to any of it. The moment I saw him, my heart skipped a beat. Not like in the movies or the romance novels where people say it was love at first sight. My heart actually skipped a beat. I didn’t breathe for a moment and then it happened.
He turned round, coffee in hand and as he was walking towards the door, he bumped himself on a chair and he fell head first on the floor spilling his coffee. I was up on my feet first thing. Of course I didn’t plan it that way but I would be a fool if I didn’t take advantage of the situation.
So there I was beside him, helping him up to his feet, asking him routine questions: “How are you?” “Are you ok?” “Do you need a doctor?”
He replied with an “I’m fine” to all my queries but what surprised me was he broke out with a joke.
“Although I seem to need another cup of coffee” he chuckled and said.
I looked at him, incredulous and quickly realised what an opportunity this was for me. I smiled at him, pointed to the table where I was sitting and told him to wait for me.
Ten minutes later I was sitting beside him, the guy who had captivated this poor soul of mine, sharing coffee and he looking straight at my eyes.
My inner self started cursing me to say something, but all I could do was smile and continue sipping my coffee. Here I was with the guy whom I had envisioned as the perfect half for myself, the guy whom I thought I knew everything about. It quickly dawned on me that I knew nothing of the ‘stranger’ sitting opposite me.
He might be an IT professional I argued with myself, or he could be one of those weird fetish of a guy who go out and get girls just to have their way with them!
Or he could be a rapist or a murderer, my inner-self smirking, told me.
Seeming to understand my plight since I had been silent for about five minutes, he broke it by asking me how I knew his choice of coffee.
I looked at him astonished and asked him back whether he didn’t notice me. He then carefully scrutinized me which made me more uncomfortable. Five seconds later he exclaimed- “Coffee Shop Girl!!!”
At first I was insulted at his comment and then I quickly asked him back-“You recognised me?”
To which his reply was of course, I had been serving him drinks for the past couple of months. He also replied that he had seen me there and had always wanted to talk more to me beyond the over the counter exchanges we had every day.
I smiled and boldly claimed that today must be his lucky day.
So, we ended up talking and to a guy who seems to be busy every day, he had no qualms about spending four hours with me just sitting and talking. But looking back now it was kind of weird that we spoke most about myself. I did get some details of him but it felt like I was just being interviewed. I had learnt he was working in some IT Software Company nearby the coffee place. I learnt his favourite game and his favourite colour. But apart from that I didn’t know anything else.
Instead he seemed to have grilled all of my information from me. My mind then went into over drive… what if I had just given out my most personal and most intimate details of my life to a complete maniac who just wanted to find a gullible girl and then kill her for whatever sadistic pleasure it might offer him. And all these thoughts came to me when I was in the shower, showering!!
What if he’s already outside my bathroom with a kitchen knife, planning to kill me?
What if he’s already just behind me and I can’t see him because of the shower curtain?
I started panicking and ran out of my bathroom, towel covering me just to make sure nobody was in my room and whether my door was locked.
I started laughing when I remembered he gave me his phone number.
As I dried myself off and sat down to eat what was left of my half-eaten pizza for dinner, I started to think. Should I call him?
I did have a good time with him today. Besides he made me laugh and also, he is good looking enough to not be classified a killer or a rapist or anything else for that matter. Then my inner self told me- “The good ones are always the crazy ones”.
I decided to sleep on it.
Early morning, I woke up. I had no classes today so it was a shocker for me to actually have woken up with plenty of time to spare for catching the bus. I cursed myself and my internal clock. It’s always the same; whenever you want to do something you won’t be able to but when you deliberately want to avoid that same thing, you end up doing it.
I ended up sitting alone with nothing to do. The telly had been on but I barely paid attention to it. My mind wandered to the gentleman. As my mind wandered, I realised that he had not given me his name.
And all my insecurities came back. What if he was really a killer?
I took out my phone and decided to call him. Curiously enough he had saved his contact as “Coffee Shop Man”.
I looked around my apartment, it was clean enough. My other roommates won’t be in until late at night. The perks of living away from parents and being alone in the city is the chance to do anything I want. So, I decided to call him and ask him to come over.
My inner self cautioned me against it. You’re inviting the psychopath into your room, she said. I turned her off by turning up the volume to my stereo.
I was confident, I could do it.
2:30 PM, I called him and he picked up the call at the second ring.
“Coffee Shop Girl”, he said.
Without waiting for myself to chicken out I told him what I wanted to tell. Gave him directions to my apartment and told him to come on over and that I would prepare his coffee for him in my place. He readily accepted and said that he would be here by three.
I was overjoyed and yet cautious of what might happen. I just invited a complete stranger whose name I didn’t even know to come to my room. The same fact scared me and filled me with butterflies.
As the butterflies, the feeling of insecurities and involuntary thoughts came to me; the minutes tick by and the seconds passed….
Through the two-way mirror; the doctor and his first nurse stood observing.
Cardboard in hand, sheets of diagnosis stapled to them, they both started to chat.
“Doctor, Is she getting any better?”
“I don’t think so…”
“She keeps on mentioning something about a coffee shop.”
“She keeps on saying how pretty she looks in the yellow sundress she is wearing when clearly she is wearing the hospital mandate clothes…”
“Maybe the meds are too strong for her….”
The doctor then starts thinking to himself, but she didn’t work anywhere near a coffee shop, not according to her files. She was a pre-med student and cracked under the pressure of studies. That’s why she is here in this institute, locked up in this observation room. Yet she keeps on spinning these absurd stories of her wanting to meet her other half. I don’t get it. Two years with her and reading and re-analysing her files and yet I still don’t get it.
“Doctor? Its time”, the nurse said.
I checked my wristwatch, three in the evening, I saw her through the mirror and as if on cue she comes up to the door; I sighed and let out a deep breathe…
“Here goes nothing….”
3:00 PM
“You made it she said!”
“Here’s your coffee!”
