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He tried concealing the discomfort in his face as the coffee burned his lips and tongue when he sucked a quarter sip from his eleventh cup of the day.  “My entire reputation: sullied, besmirched!” He thought as his eyes implored the room and finally convinced himself that no one in the Barnes and Noble had seen the irredeemably hideous countenance his face conveyed.  Soft, round fingers, with slightly too long fingernails turned the page of a book he grabbed to “preview” over an hour ago. His attention oscillated between the words and the store, or as he described it: ‘The Enlightenment Emporium’.  He stacked six or seven pages on the left side of the book, waiting for someone to enter his section. With every customer that passed his leather lounger, he had that anticipation then disappointment you get when you see the waiter coming with your food and you're so certain you'll be eating in the next thirty seconds, that even chemical digestion engages itself inside your mouth, but then you're left high and dry when the food tray suddenly averts its course to the table beside yours.  

The lounge was made of three chairs and a couch facing a center coffee table.  If another customers legs weren't an obstacle, it was about six strides from the philosophy section and ten from the literature section.  The chair aimed at the rear of the store offered a clear view of both, and in it was a ghost-white figure with pink lips contorted downward and thick, raised eyebrows. This was Darius Keyonnie.  

It would be a stretch to say he’s fat, rather his too-small shirts do just that.  Today his breasts and belly were squeezed by his favorite Brown University T-shirt, meeting a pair of suit pants at his waist and following the pants’ pinstripes down revealed a pair of leather penny loafers.  He reasoned that only a supreme intelligence could assemble such an outfit. the pants and shoes show class, professionalism, and above all higher-consciousness. The shirt ensures that he need not waste his breath explaining his alma mater.  This outfit offers the finest combination of classy-intelligence and casual-approachability.

A swift gust gripped his attention as a man walked past, seemingly headed for the philosophy section.  Darius had the anticipation of a rider waiting for a rollercoaster, the carts came, the lap latches lifted, the previous passengers pulled out, and “bingo”, the gentleman was at the philosophy section.  Leaning forward, no longer reading, Darius was a hawk waiting for the gentleman to pick up a book. The tall, middle-aged man fingered the spine of a book and Darius’ heart thundered and then dejected to see that he was only glancing at the cover.  The man’s hands moved to his hips and he stepped back browsing the shelf until his eyes set on the book for which he had been searching. Darius sprang up and bolted to the shelf as the man previewed the synopsis.

The two stood less than a foot apart as Darius’ eyes flashed between the book in the mans’ hand and pretending to look on the shelf.  Despite inching away and rotating his shoulders, the man couldn't avoid Darius’ watching. Several times he tried shifting positions, only to have Darius follow closer.  The situation grew so unbearably awkward that the man was preparing to settle prematurely and walk away. Finally, Darius succeeded in detecting the title and author of the book the man was holding.

“Ah! Alain De Button!” Darius broke in.

“Ye-Yes,” The man said, caught off-guard and obviously flustered.

“Ah, I do personally consider such authors and popularizers of philosophical concepts to be the intellectual equivalent of gerber life care to a fine Chateaubriand steak with Béarnaise sauce!” Darius haughtily added with his best attempt at a french accent.

“Oh... uhh...  yeah I mean, I think it’s interesting.” The man politely objected.

“Ha ha! Oh in what strange times we do live, indeed!  Access to profound knowledge is so readily distributed to such plebeian minds, only by way of shaving layers of complexity off.  How readily one will accept the lightened and digestible, pre-chewed form of such brilliant ideas.” Darius was becoming passionate.

The man was becoming angry. “I’m sorry, did you just say m-”

Darius interrupted with tears beginning to orchestrate: “Oh such fools!  They do not see. They cannot see that such knowledge is a glorious spring of the freshest water, accessible only by the long and unforgiving trek to the mountaintop, to be bottled by hand, in only the finest and most victorian chalice.  It is not to be bottled in some plastic container and shipped on a filthy vessel to millions!”

The man’s stance tightened and he drew closer to Darius.“Look, I’m not sure what your problem is but if yo-”

“What my problem is? What my problem is! Oh, What my problem is he says!  Says the man, Alain de Botton in hand! Allow me, sir, to fare to you the most exquisite advice I could give to one such gentleman.  I will start by stating that I ofcourse have graduated, with the highest honor and-” Darius’ speech was interrupted by a vibration and ring from his pocket.  With a huff and a signal to the man to wait a minute, he dug into his spacious, pinstriped pocket and brought the phone to his ear.

“Jesus christ, yes Mee Maw?!”

“Oh, Darry, honey!  Are you alright? It sounds like someone has the grumpy-wumpies” Even the man could hear the comforting and elder voice through the phone.

“I am very busy Mee Maw! Can this wait?” He almost shouted and then turned slightly, covering his mouth and the bottom of the phone, so as not to be heard: “And I told you not to say the grumpy-wumpies anymore.”

The man’s irritation was turning to pity and discomfort, so he kindly mouthed some unintelligible words with squinted eyes, pointed to the checkout counter, and walked that direction.  

“Wait! Come back! I'm not finished!” Darius commanded.

The man continued to walk.

“Nice Mee Maw! You have squandered an opportunity to enlighten!” He directed his anger at Mee Maw.

“Oh, Darry honey! I'm sorry, I know you have your enlightening to do, but Mee Maw just talked to the doctor about Papa’s appointment, and...”

“What? What could be so important? Can it not wait?  It could be hours before another troglodyte wonders into one of my sections.”

“Well, Darry, we’ve got to talk about somethings.  Why don't you come on home, honey.” Her voice vexed him through the small rectangular slot.

“Mee Maw, I’ve unfinished business still!”

“Come on home, I need to use the van later on anyway.”

“Fine Mee Maw, but I hope you can live with depriving this high-consciousness-ridden town of enlightenment.” He ended the call and turned to leave the store.

He took the long way to the exit, passing through psychology and self help and finally cooking, before passing the checkout counter.  A voice lunged from behind the counter in a lighthearted tone: “Checking out early today, eh Darius?”

“Yes, Todd, Yes I am.  Though not by my own accord, if my will were to prevail, I shall have sent that gentleman out with enlightenment!”  His passion was reigniting.

“Believe me, I know it better than anyone!” Todd said honestly.  “One day, everyone will know!”

“Also, you can hold strong to my word that I shall revise your college admittance essay later this evening, at the Peacock.” Darius was becoming calmer.

“Oh, thank you!  That would be great!”

“Then it’s settled.  For now, I’ve important matters that require tending, farewell Todd.”

“See ya, man” Todd nodded.

Darius walked through the sliding doors and met the parking lot with a confident march.  His mind looped the incident from moments ago as he chastised himself for being unable to enlighten.  A labyrinth of thoughts overwhelmed him until his eyes met the back of a dark red minivan covered in Brown University stickers.  The car shook as he plopped himself down in the driver seat and Katy Perry’s Fireworks blared. He sat and found himself listening with the joy you get when you're cleaning and find something you forgot you had lost.  A flare of embarrassment then self discipline came over him as he switched to Mozart and reprimanded pop music to himself the entire drive home.