Bad Reading

A highlight reel of a mans unlikely encounters described through 3rd person, Bad Reading takes place in a coffee shop & invokes the hopeless romantic in us all.

 Bad reading

He stands idly, waiting in the line at the cafe where all of the students come to study. The place was on his way home, he tells himself, but the real reason he continuously shows up, day after day, week after week, was her. If he could just see her, it would mean the trip wasn't for nothing, he could go home happy and that would be that, if he could just see her. As orders are being taken the line shifts forward, he looks anxiously over the shoulders in front of him and around the dining room for signs of her. He catches himself though, in this desperation, and calms himself of it, feeling for his wallet as his turn is next.

 

He steps up to the cashier with a rehearsed smile and scans the menu's above, though he knew what he wanted since the moment he has walked in.

 

"Just a small black coffee" he smiles, and hands the kid behind the register a $5 dollar bill.

 

"Here's your change, sir. It should be right up." The boy says, and they both smile.

 

Where is she?

 

He walks with sweaty fists inside his coat pockets over to a table near the window.  Students are typing away on their computers. He sips his coffee.

 

Where is she?

 

The kitchen doors swing open and he leans over in hopes of peering inside just to catch a glimpse of her before the doors swing shut again, no luck. His arm knocks his receipt from the table, and as it slowly drifts to the ground, the door bursts open in what feels like stopped time.

 

It’s her.

 

Napkins flutter in the updraft as she waltzes from the kitchen holding steaming pitchers in each hand. The wind catches her hair just right as the sun reflects off the polished tables, illuminating it as it wraps around her shoulders.

 

He is in awe of her. It's an feeling rooted deep in his bones.

 

He looks around and sees at least three other men staring at her, in awe of her too.

 

She's like that. She has that effect on people. He wonders if they came from work too, if they each had gone a little out of their way just to see her.

 

She turns and he realizes he is staring at her as he sets his empty cup on the table.

She comes toward him, and he feels utterly unprepared as he straightens his coat and rearranges a napkin arrangement in the center of the table.

 

"More coffee sir?" She says with a slow smile creeping across her face. She pauses, he's staring at her.

 

"Are you ok?" She asks as her soft eyebrows shift into a position of concern.

 

"Yes, I'm fine." He smiles, and slowly stands up.

 

He takes the first pitcher from her hands and sets it on the table next to them, then he does the same with the other. She gives an uncomfortable chuckle as he does this, but she does not object yet. He puts one arm behind her back, pulling her closer to him and brings his face closer to hers. They stand there for a moment, holding a gaze that is reminiscent of any Humphrey Bogart scene, where all he has to do next is swoop the dame into a beautiful iconic kiss. Here’s looking at you kid- he plants one squarely on her, they twist heads to really drive it home, and when they separate a bond is forever melded between them. One of love, of hope, destiny, and the chance of everlasting happiness.

 

HE bends her backwards at the waist as draws his lips in close to hers, their eyes connect.

 

She screams.

 

She howls with such a blood-curling intensity, that a waiter drops a stack of glasses, some kid removes his huge headphones just to see what’s going on, and a woman turns from her phone conversation with her mouth wide open. NOW it feels like stopped time he thought - as the scene had gone so awry from what he envisioned in his head. He releases the embrace immediately out of fear and inadvertently drops her on the ground in front of an audience of 30.

 

“What the f**k are you doing!?” She yelps up from the ground, he looks down at her and all the allure has suddenly vanished.

 

“Don’t ever f*****g touch me again you f*****g pig!” She yelled.

 

“I know! I’m so sorry! I"“

 

“Get out! Get out right now before I call the police-“ A muscly barrista says as he’s rounding the counter.

 

“Already on it"hello? Hi I’m at a café right now and this man just assaulted a wom-“ The woman with the phone turns away.

 

“Really?” He yelled with a frantic, disillusioned look on his face.

 

“Really?” He says again in disbelief. He runs to the front door and flings it open while sliding through it on the wet, snow-tracked floor. The café sits incredibly silent as he sprints past the big bay windows and over to his car. He jumps in, panting, he looks in the mirror, “What the f**k!” he says to his own reflection out of either surprise in the girls reaction, surprise in his own misreading of the situation, or just surprise in general. He turns the car on and spoils the tires out onto the main road. He looks in the rear-view mirror constantly while he puts distance between himself and the café, all the while whispering “what the f**k” to himself. He turns onto the highway and picks up speed. It’s alright now, he thinks, that was crazy, at least the café isn’t really on my way home.

Author's Note

Would you read this as a series of chapters about this guys ridiculous encounters?

Reviews

[Cierra]

I really like this story. The only thing I would work on, which is also something I struggle with myself, is the usage of he, her, his, hers, thing. Too much repetitiveness can really make a story hard to read.

Like I said, I struggle with it too... Haha. Other than that, great piece. Look forward to reading more of your stuff!