undressed.
Couldn’t sleep though, so I tossed and turned until 5a.m. as I wondered why I spent money to come to a frost-bitten city during Christmas. Should’ve went to my parents house for turkey and mashed potatoes and dealt with reality.
Once the sun lit the edges of my curtains, I took a shower and got dressed, then found my way to a nice little coffee house by my hotel. Small, but seemed kinda upscale. I paid for a coffee which they made fresh right in front of me, from grinding the beans to a small French press large enough for one cup. Some serious coffee makers, if you ask me.
I sat by the window and scanned the room. One other man about my age sat at the bar reading a newspaper. That’s it. Understandable for such an early hour.
I watched people pass. Not many of them did. Still hadn’t turned on my phone. And had no plans to. Figured I’d stay a week. Keep my phone off. Process my life. You know, try to relax and then go back to reality when I couldn’t avoid it anymore.
I sipped my coffee and noticed a woman sitting by the window across the shop. She looked away when I caught her watching me. I pretended not to notice and pulled a book from my backpack. The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde. I scanned the words with my eyes, but my mind kept thinking about Heidi. What was she doing? Was she happy? Who was the guy in her bedroom?
I caught the woman looking at me again. Chestnut hair way passed her shoulders, eyes hiding under long bangs, she would’ve been worth talking to if I were interested in women.
But I wasn’t.
I was interested in singleness for life. It’s easier for a woman to get her heart broken in this culture. She gives so much and most men are selfish. But come on now. As a man I had more than my fair share of getting hurt and I wanted nothing to do with the culprit.
Women.
She smiled at me with a pen between her teeth. I’m not dumb. I know flirtatiousness when I see it. So I buried my face behind Dorian Gray and ignored her.
“Excuse me,” a gentle voice whispered. “Is this seat taken?”
I peered over the book and shook my head. She sat down. Smiling. I pretended to read.
“I live here,” she said. “But you look like you’re from somewhere else.”
“Philadelphia,” I said, not looking up.
“Is it much different there?”
“Not sure. Only been here since last night.”
“Oh really? What brings you here for Christmas?”
I put the book on the table and looked into her eyes. “I need a break because women suck the life out of me.”
She laughed and put a red beret on her head. “Let’s go.”
I picked the book back up.
“You’re not fooling anyone when you pretend to read that book, you know.”
I ignored her and read aloud.
“How old are you?” she said.
“Older than you.”
“Today is my birthday. I’m twenty-eight. You look about thirty?”
She crossed her arms and smiled at me as I read. The red beret made her hazel eyes look brown. I couldn’t help but notice, although I tried my hardest not to.
“I’m not flirting,” she said. “You just look like you could use a friend.”
I kept reading. Didn’t look up.
“Not all women suck the life out of men. Some of us like to bring life to them. You look like you could use a little resuscitating.”
“Not from your mouth,” I said.
She laughed. “My name is Nora. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Why are you spending your birthday talking to a strange man?”
“I need an adventure. This year I promised myself I’d do things I don’t normally do. Step one, talk to a complete stranger.”
“You seem pretty good at it for a first timer.”
A man walked in the door and saw us. “Nora,” he said. “Great job with Les Mis. You were incredible as always.”
She thanked him and turned back to me. “Let’s go,” she whispered. “You’re not the only one who needs to escape reality.”
She stuffed my book into my backpack, took my hand, and pulled me into the blustery
Couldn’t sleep though, so I tossed and turned until 5a.m. as I wondered why I spent money to come to a frost-bitten city during Christmas. Should’ve went to my parents house for turkey and mashed potatoes and dealt with reality.
Once the sun lit the edges of my curtains, I took a shower and got dressed, then found my way to a nice little coffee house by my hotel. Small, but seemed kinda upscale. I paid for a coffee which they made fresh right in front of me, from grinding the beans to a small French press large enough for one cup. Some serious coffee makers, if you ask me.
I sat by the window and scanned the room. One other man about my age sat at the bar reading a newspaper. That’s it. Understandable for such an early hour.
I watched people pass. Not many of them did. Still hadn’t turned on my phone. And had no plans to. Figured I’d stay a week. Keep my phone off. Process my life. You know, try to relax and then go back to reality when I couldn’t avoid it anymore.
I sipped my coffee and noticed a woman sitting by the window across the shop. She looked away when I caught her watching me. I pretended not to notice and pulled a book from my backpack. The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde. I scanned the words with my eyes, but my mind kept thinking about Heidi. What was she doing? Was she happy? Who was the guy in her bedroom?
I caught the woman looking at me again. Chestnut hair way passed her shoulders, eyes hiding under long bangs, she would’ve been worth talking to if I were interested in women.
But I wasn’t.
I was interested in singleness for life. It’s easier for a woman to get her heart broken in this culture. She gives so much and most men are selfish. But come on now. As a man I had more than my fair share of getting hurt and I wanted nothing to do with the culprit.
Women.
She smiled at me with a pen between her teeth. I’m not dumb. I know flirtatiousness when I see it. So I buried my face behind Dorian Gray and ignored her.
“Excuse me,” a gentle voice whispered. “Is this seat taken?”
I peered over the book and shook my head. She sat down. Smiling. I pretended to read.
“I live here,” she said. “But you look like you’re from somewhere else.”
“Philadelphia,” I said, not looking up.
“Is it much different there?”
“Not sure. Only been here since last night.”
“Oh really? What brings you here for Christmas?”
I put the book on the table and looked into her eyes. “I need a break because women suck the life out of me.”
She laughed and put a red beret on her head. “Let’s go.”
I picked the book back up.
“You’re not fooling anyone when you pretend to read that book, you know.”
I ignored her and read aloud.
“How old are you?” she said.
“Older than you.”
“Today is my birthday. I’m twenty-eight. You look about thirty?”
She crossed her arms and smiled at me as I read. The red beret made her hazel eyes look brown. I couldn’t help but notice, although I tried my hardest not to.
“I’m not flirting,” she said. “You just look like you could use a friend.”
I kept reading. Didn’t look up.
“Not all women suck the life out of men. Some of us like to bring life to them. You look like you could use a little resuscitating.”
“Not from your mouth,” I said.
She laughed. “My name is Nora. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Why are you spending your birthday talking to a strange man?”
“I need an adventure. This year I promised myself I’d do things I don’t normally do. Step one, talk to a complete stranger.”
“You seem pretty good at it for a first timer.”
A man walked in the door and saw us. “Nora,” he said. “Great job with Les Mis. You were incredible as always.”
She thanked him and turned back to me. “Let’s go,” she whispered. “You’re not the only one who needs to escape reality.”
She stuffed my book into my backpack, took my hand, and pulled me into the blustery
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