by Cameron Crawford: 3/8/2005
Sitting here waiting
Bored
Have a headache.
I just saved a life. No I didn't. I tried though--with a cup of water she drank swiftly, acquiring relief from an asthmatic attack.
The coffee shop went from cold, calm, comfortable and workable to a
Madhouse, creeeping with energy.
Young kids, punk dos, black shirts and shiny shoes. They've invaded!
Stealing my quiet night out at Sparky's. Making my headache filled, half studying, mind wandering but sort of focused evening and turning it
Upside down, adding more shades of color, more noise, less boredom and infinitely more complex.
Instead of eight quiet souls to deal with, there are now close to twenty.
Twenty people, ninety-eight percent of them won't hear a word out of me. Ninety-eight percent of them to fill the Black Cat. Ninety-eight percent of them will keep talking louder and louder.
Only two smiles, and mine doesn't count.
One slightly thankful asthmatic and another uninterested urban socialite.
She probably drives a Honda.
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