Cafe Society

Sitting in the greasy spoon, I shelter from the thunderstorm that rages outside and listen to the various conversations happening around me. Two men on the next table consult their smartphones and try to get their orientation. Should I help them I wonder but instead I smile encouragingly when they hit on the right conclusion. My smile turns to one of sympathy when they mention sleeping bags and camping and we all look out of the window at the teaming rain.
On the table behind a man bemoans the system that is about to take away his benefits as he can walk 20 metres. He tells the men he is with that he is planning on selling his house and going to London to buy a Land rover and then he will hide the rest of the proceeds in a big metal safe. His mates make supportive mutterings and they agree that there will be a revolution one day.
The door opens and more people come in. Thor seems to be swinging his hammer right above our heads but in this place lives are planned, bonds are made and, as the disabled man painfully makes his way to the door, I notice that one leg is replaced by a metal peg. Then I realise that I know him, knew him – years ago in a previous life, but it’s too late by then to say something. I guess time does move on.
Suddenly there is an almighty flash accompanied by a deafening thunderous rumble – even more men pour through the door of the café; everyone looks around and somebody, with the wisdom that is only borne of working outside in all weathers, comments, “Jesus Christ I would not want to be on that scaffolding today!”
Everyone concurs.
It turns out that I am the one lone fish in a pond full of inhabited lily pads. These grown men sit around and talk turns to babies and cots and I smile once more and write it down.

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1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. Rock Your Inner Hippie
    Jun 09, 2013 @ 14:03:59

    This is just fan-freaking-tastic…LOVE it. From one people-watcher/people-appreciator to another; WELL DONE… 🙂

    Reply

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