The Coffee Shop

A piece from the novel I will never work up the nerve to finish

         It was the age of misleading pondering and empty glances. Kevin was resentfully aware of this because he hadn't had the installation yet, but of course he wanted it. Being ignored by a majority of the population stung him. Kevin had never given much of damn about most people anyway, but now, even if he had something to say to them, they wouldn't listen unless he was switched-on.
         The switch was new, expensive, and so consequently most of western society had tossed their lugging cellphones into the garbage or given them to the children; it was a war that the toy soldiers had no chance in winning.
         Kevin, having no income and no patience for the job search lacked the resources to have the install, but he grabbed hope at the thought of a new version of the Switch coming before its reasonable time. He grasped at the thought of imbeciles, as he imagined them, flocking to the next thing, lowering the expense of its predecessor.
          But for now, he watched with a longing, loathing glare at the people in the cafe. Sitting with friends, but never speaking. Staring blankly across the table top, faces without emotion. They were smug a******s without the grin.
         This cafe in Southern California, close to where the ocean licks the Malibu beaches and the breeze whistles at the few reamining beach volleyball stereotypes, this is where Kevin meets with Randy.
         Randy is a part time friend and full time pot dealer who happens to dabble in psychedelics around the holiday season. Being from California meant that Kevin could easily be licensed to spark one as part of his daily, and usually hourly medication for ailments such as insomnia, depression, or the anxiety of apathetic sobriety. Even with such an opportunity, Kevin never warmed up to the medicinal movement. Kevin wanted his drugs to be drugs. And so, for old times sake and for some sense of past-preservation, Kevin smoked the bottom-of-the-bag-s**t and he did so with a dumb, stoned smile on his face.
         Anyway, he was in the coffee house, sitting by the window. He felt the sun on his hand. It was strange to see his own hand without his cellphone in it, but with the Switch gaining momentum, he didn't want people to see that he was behind in the technological evolution as the national news deemed it.
         Randy was walking back to the table after trying to flirt with the apron wearing countress. He had two large coffees in his hands; he always bought coffee for the two of them. He would say its on the house, but really, the pot he was selling to Kevin was so cheap for him it would actually sit on his conscience if he didn't at least buy the stubborn b*****d a coffee. He sat the cup down, steam rose from the sip slit and was intersected by sunshine.
         "Black coffee," Randy said and took his seat across from Kevin. They were both a little stoned, as was their custom and beginning a conversation was an obstacle of careful word choice and the filtration of self-consumed delusion. Randy was actually quite gifted at speaking to people when he was stoned, but Kevin was different. Kevin was not amused by the back and forth dementia of pot-people. Randy, tapping his fingers waited for Kevin to speak, expecting him to complain of a headache like he had for the past couple weeks, but Kevin only looked about the cafe, intentionally under lit for that downtown, atmospheric vibe.  Randy tested his coffee and approving of its temperature, he nodded,"You know, you really should try this. The""
          "What's that?" Kevin tested his coffee and approving of its bitterness, he nodded.
          "The caramel latte with cream and shredded caramel bits on top." Randy was a salesman and would always make an effort to convince. "You keep settling for black and you know its crap."
          "Listen, what you are drinking is not coffee, its dessert." This conversation was always how they began their cafe conversation. It loosened them up. "Besides, black coffee is supposed to help with headaches."
          "How is your headache?"
           "It aches, Randy. The hell kind of question," Kevin pushed his middle and index finger into the middle of his forehead, massaging the skin into loose folds. He took a long sip of his coffee and let it burn his tongue, "thanks for the coffee, guy."
           Randy reached below the table and into his pocket; among the sugar packets he grabbed his phone and set it next to his coffee. He diddled with it, molested it with his thumbs. Kevin swiveled his head inspecting the room in a panic, no one had changed their glance. In fact there was only a single person left in the cafe, staring at a wall, no doubt Switched-on and enjoying every second of it. "Hey, what are you doing?"
           "Just changing my status, checking in." Randy said, his red eyes illuminated by the glow of his phone, he didn't even have the sense to turn the brightness down. The table buzzed, the source being Randy's phone. Panic hugged Kevin's face, he didn't even turn the damn thing on silent. Everyone is going to know we aren't switched on, Kevin thought and stared at the blank face of the single other customer. Kevin thought about how if there were people in those empty seats, their eyes would be on them, his face burned with embarrassment at the thought.
           "People are going to see that we aren't Switched-on." Kevin whispered to his coffee, but looked at Randy.
           "Good." Randy said and tapped at his screen. He drank his coffee in one hand and tapped at his phone in the other.
           "You don't want the switch?" Kevin said. He hadn't known anybody who would pass on the switch. He was sure Randy had some paranoid reason for staying clear it. "Why don't you want it?"
            Randy looked up from the phone, his mouth turned down. Kevin could see the paranoia washing around behind his pot-dealer's eyes. He spoke, "Those Switches are a mark of the beast and the end of days."
           This is when Kevin truly noticed the cross necklace hanging from Randy's neck by a seemingly fragile silver chain. Kevin didn't want to get into it with Randy especially since he was semi-stoned and if he stayed any longer he surely would.
          "Well, if this is the end of days, I probably shouldn't be spending some of my final hours in a damn coffee shop." And leaving his coffee on the table, he pushed the swinging door and was exposed to the sunlight.

Author's Note

Its the start of something, maybe.

Reviews

[Naraly Godinez]

If I'd the introduction to a story it's great it's veer confusing however stuck between the idea that he either immortal or that the switch is some sort of control paced upon them with the available technology in society. It could also work as a flashback chapter. I did love the slight humor that was embedded in it it lightened the mood without making it childish

[Chadvonswan]

I really enjoyed this, Zak. The characters seemed real, and the rest of it flowed.. You should elaborate on these two characters more.