Yesterday at my favorite café I sat writing. Writing and sipping my new special drink. (You can fill in the blank to whatever your favorite is) So there I was, writing and sipping, enjoying my morning, when a man came and sat in the squishy chair across from me. We smiled. Or maybe it was just me that did. I think he did back. He was tight. I like to smile at tight hearts.
A little while later when I assume his coffee had filled his bladder, he piled his newspaper onto his ipad and shot off like a rocket for the bathroom. He didn’t say a word to me. Just left.
A few minutes later he returned, plopping down in his squishy chair once again. He snuck his ipad out from under his newspaper and started working again.
Well, of course I couldn’t just let the opportunity slip away. It beckoned me. I practically felt the giggles deep in the base of my belly germinating, waiting for the invitation to be released. So I burst. With a silly idea.
“When you were gone,” I said with the most serious look I could muster, “a big burly man came and grabbed your computer. He started to run away but luckily I have been lifting weights so I was able to throw him to the ground when I caught up with him. And see this,” I said pointing to a place on the side of my face, “he did this. Hit me pretty hard. Bet it will be a nice bruise in a few minutes. But at least he didn’t get away with it. I would have felt terrible if you came back and your computer was stolen. Not on my clock.” I said, shaking my head.
The whole time I was telling my elaborate story he just stared. Sat and stared. Like I was a nuts-o, middle aged woman gone mad. His eyes got bigger at moments, then tried to look away, but couldn’t for more than a second. He was trapped. He sat himself next to a wild woman and didn’t know how to get away. Couldn't, not fast enough.
“Ah, thanks,” he said. “he, he…” he said faking laughter. “Funny.” His sarcasm stunk.
“Just wanted you to know I’m your friend,” I said, smiling. But his eyes were long gone, buried in his newspaper as deep as he could possibly go.
So I left it alone, trying to keep my giggles to myself but unable to stop asking myself questions: What came over me? Was I cruel? Trying to lighten up this man’s heavy life? Or was I just a little bit crazy and even more silly? Gosh, Brynne. Ding dong. And then I kept giggling. For what seemed like ages. To myself.
About an hour or so later, Mister Uptight packs up his things and starts to leave. Before I can say goodbye, yep, that’s right, before I can say goodbye, guess what happens? He wishes me a good day and says he will see me next time with a great big genuine smile wiped across his face.
“Wow...thanks! Bye!” I said right back, my eyes sparkling as bright as the sun.
Maybe being a little bit crazy and a lot more silly isn’t such a bad thing after all.:)
6 comments:
It sounds like the perfect thing in that particular moment. :)
See that is precisely why I adore you! You follow your heart while filling up others'.... You my dear Brynne are what the world needs more of. Silly is good- very, very good. :)
That is so you.
thank you, Amy, KLT and Brantigny!! It feels happy inside to know at least THREE more people other than myself don't think I am toooo far 'off the wall'!:) And if you did, I might just have to find you and tickle you until you changed your mind!
Ok Brynne, I had yet to consider the fact that we are middle aged until you pointed it out in your story. Thanks a bunch. Gonna have to go out and get a sports car now...lol BTW, it's been great catching up with you...Joe
Middle aged, shmiddle aged! I know the kid you really are...and, um...you know the kid I really am, too. I think we'll always be 7, don't you?? Squish, dear braid-pulling classmate! Love you!!!
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