Large Man, Small Coffee Table

"And a small cup of coffee at that" my friend commented.  I was sitting in a coffee shop much too late at night to be drinking coffee.  Their decaf was chemically treated, so I decided to have regular instead (mistake).

He was sitting at the smallest table on it's solitary chair, smack dab in the middle of the shop.  His fingers rimmed the espresso shot he had already finished.  He was staring through the large floor to ceiling windows, but I got the feeling he wasn't waiting for anything to look at.  He wasn't anywhere but in his own mind.

I ask him if I could take his picture.  "But look normal" I suggest at second thought.  The smile on his face was beautiful; truly heart lifting.  Maybe he gives it to everyone.  Maybe he took the question as a compliment.  Maybe this particular sporadic interaction brought about a completely raw emotion that he was neither feeling prior or expecting.  It was but a reflection of himself.

I took the picture and then grabbed a chair from a nearby table to join him.

Me: So what brings you out here, particularly this late at night?

Him:  I’m just waiting for a friend to get off.  I don’t really drink coffee, but this place seemed cozy enough.

M:  You don’t drink coffee and opted for an espresso shot at 10:30pm?

H:  Yeah, well.  I don’t make good choices in life.

His smile is so encompassing, I couldn’t help but smile back, despite that there was obviously nothing to be happy about in such a statement.

M:  Where do you work?

H:  Nintendo.

M:  So you play with toys all day.

H:  I’m actually a programmer.  It’s really all the same, whether you’re writing code for NASA or a video game.

M:  But you like it...

H:  Yeah, well it’s a job.  I actually went to school for theater.

[pause]

H:  But like I said, I don’t make good choices in life.

M:  Do you at least still enjoy theater from time to time?

H:  As often as I can.  That’s actually what I’m doing right now.  I’m waiting to go see a friend perform.  He doesn’t go on until 10:45 or so.  Which means I’ll have to leave you soon.

M:  No worries.  What’s he performing.

H:  Oh, he’s in a burlesque show.  But he doesn’t notice me much.

We continued our conversation through a range of irrelevant topics, specifically that of the absurd division of science and spirituality, sparked no doubt by the book he noticed me reading at the coffee shop.  The animation and fire behind his theories, ideas and ideals was empowering.  I knew he secretly wanted to save the world.  But would never start the process.

And when he left, I couldn’t help but feel a deep pang of emotion.  Was this man happy?    Was he perhaps fueled by the martyrdom of his own life and fooling everyone otherwise? Maybe he was momentarily hung up on the unattainable “friend” in the burlesque show and couldn’t see beyond it.

So where ever you are: I hope the performance was everything you hoped for.  Scratch that.  I hope you find your happiness, whether or not it’s hidden behind beautiful men and sequins.  Oh and my friend saw your picture.  He would like your number soon.