From the mind of a mild mannered maniac

Posts tagged ‘Coffee’

Promises of things to come

So I’m sitting in the coffee shop, a very well known place, with a warm drink and an everything bagel by my side. The lilting tones of a canned classical guitar wafting around my ears. Just killin’ time and digging the aromatic scent of fresh ground java from some exotic shore.

Outside the rain is pounding down on the sidewalks and street, not a downer just an expected inconvenience, for this Pacific North West, town. My Grandma used to cajole anyone who dared complain about such trivial things, thusly:
“You’re not made of sugar you know! Rain is a blessing from on high!”
Thanks Nanna you are so right.

The friendly chatter of the generally passive patrons is a welcome and comforting relief from the pessimistic pundits on the radio. By their reckoning, civilization is heading the way of the Dodo and cathode ray Telivision sets. I’ll believe that when I see it. Oh wait….never mind.

So why am I here? No not in a metaphysical sense, that’s not where I’m at this morning. No I meant why am I whiling away my morning in this manner? Well let me see.

When my gig at the bakery came to a halt, several years ago, I took on work as the personal minder of a two-year-old boy and his somewhat older sister. They are wonderful kids, and I am finding the whole experience most fulfilling, and emotionally rewarding.

As my beautiful mother likes to remind me,

“Children keep us young at heart and mind.”

She is always spot on, although the whole question of whether I actually ever grew out of my childhood, is still very much up for debate.

Well, anyway, this line of work keeps me quite occupied, those Lego blocks don’t build themselves you know. What with my dressing, cooking, chauffering and playing duties, I have gotten far away from my writing goals, principally being reasonably frequent postings to this blog.

Given my infrequent entries here, It really is small wonder that anyone remains subscribed to me, for which, by the way, I remain eternally grateful.

Sources evade me as I pen these words, but I have read, in many different forums, that writers write, and not every wordsmith has countless empty hours in which to do so.

If it’s something you want or really need to do, make time for it, they cajole me.

That is my intent. A couple of times a week, my little charge spends his mornings at preschool. These are hours that I have, previously frittered away on heaven knows what. Hours, some of which I intend, henceforth, to repurpose for writing.
I dare not make bold promises here, but it is my aim to post something weekly from now on.

💟 I love you all for hanging in there for me.
Keep hope in your hearts and a smile close to your lips,



Greasy Spoon Cafe

I sat, alone, inside the dimly lit, Greasy Spoon Cafe. It was late, and most of the lunch crowd had long ago faded into oblivion.

I was idly thumbing through the pages of some local rag. The paper was yellowed with age,  dotted and smeared with a real  consortium of beverage and foodstuffs of undetermined vintage. The remnants of some sloppy diners’ meals, no doubt.

An elderly waitress, looking very out of place in a clean cotton summer frock and starched white apron, smiled and handed me a menu. I was tempted to order the pale green stuff that was smeared over the bi-line on page three, but instead opted for a toasted club sandwich and coffee.
She shuffled away and I went back to my paper.

I looked up as the door chimes rang and a young couple walked in. She of medium height, fair hair, and shapely physique, He, a tall and very lean, stoop-shouldered lad, with mop of frizzy, black, hair and what appeared to be a permanent grin.

After much deliberation, they settled on a table in the far corner, and sat down on opposite sides to wait.

She reached over and held his hand, and they gazed into each other’s love-struck eyes. It didn’t last though, for their smiles seemed to turn rather quickly to frowns. I couldn’t make out actual words, but their raised voices carried clear across the room.

Just then, the waitress arrived with my food and coffee, and turned my attention from Romeo and Juliette to the most delectable, clubhouse sandwich this side of Main Street.

Later, when my lunch was reduced to a few crumbs, and my coffee a distant memory, I. glanced back over at the restaurants only other occupied table.

The young man’s chair was abandoned and the young lady sat sobbing uncontrollably into her paper napkin.

I hesitated for a few minutes, weighing up the pros and cons of interfering, then heart beat brains.

I got up from my seat and walked toward her.

She was running short of dry spots on her napkin, and her eyes were beet red. I approached her and said that I knew it wasn’t any of my business, but was everything alright.

She stared up at me, in silence for a very long minute, then, having, somehow, determined I wasn’t the neighborhood rapist, she spoke.

“He broke up with me,” She said and glanced vacantly at the napkin.
The words gushed out of her, and a fresh flood of tears poured down her cheeks.
I handed her my freshly laundered handkerchief. She took it and dabbed at her swollen eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, “You seemed so into each other.” I paused and pointed to my table, “That’s how it looked, from my vantage point, anyway”

She smiled sardonicly. “Ya, mine too! Rex and I were talking about getting married next fall.”

I’ve often been called an old softy, and I guess I sorta am, but, hey, she seemed like a sweet kid and she was clearly broken up about it. The least I could do is lend an ear.

“So, what happened?” I asked.
She blew her nose and sighed.

“I wish I knew!” we’re sitting here making all these wonderful plans, one minute; then the next he says he’s done. never wants to see me again!”

I mulled it over briefly unsure of what to say.

“Listen,” I said, marriage is a huge step, maybe he just needs time to let it sink in.”

She seemed to consider this, because a faint smile, momentarily replaced her frown.

I sat down in the empty spot, and for the next twenty minutes, or so. I, quietly listened, while Stella talked.

She told me about future plans and dreams, Like; taking a train out east to meet his parents, visiting Whistler Mountain Resort to plan their reception party and honeymooning on the beach in Waikiki.
Then she stared, intently, at the tablecloth.

‘But none of that matters anymore!”

“People fight all the time,” I said finally, “are you sure it’s truly over?”

She nodded glumly.

“Yes, says he can’t stand the sight of me.”

Her whole body quivered and convulsed and I sat there feeling utterly useless as the tears started, all over again.

Next thing i knew, old Rex
was there, looming over me, and before I could utter that old chestnut ‘This isn’t what it looks like!” I noticed his big, toothy grin.
He looked at Stella, she looked at him, and they burst out laughing.

Now, everyone deals with things differently, and grief can manifest itself in many different ways, but even a fool like me could see there was something odd here.

Confused? So was I, but the answer was about to reveal itself…
Turns out these two love birds were in a College Theater Arts Program together and the whole thing was an act. There’s was no breakup, this was all part of an elaborate ruse. A Prank played on, unsuspecting suckers like me for practise and giggles.

After their somewhat lenghly explanation, Rex handed me a pair of tickets.and backstage passes to a new production the two of them were performing in.

“No hard feelings?” he asked.

I tried to affect a scowl, but my smile broke through in stark defiance.

“Nope, I’m just glad you two are okay, I said. Then I thought for half a second. “How did you know I would fall for it?” I asked finally. “I could’ve just walked away.

Stella glanced at Rex, then back at me and she smiled warmly.

“‘Cause I’m a good judge of character.”


Tag Cloud

Morgan Hobbes

Yes, THAT Morgan Hobbes. The one you've never heard of.

The Renegade Press

Tales from the mouth of a wolf

The Daily Tales of Gregg Savage

Every day, I write a unique story for you to share and enjoy.

Dean J. Baker - Poetry, and prose poems


Purple Pants

Presenting Life Delicacies with a Pinch of Salt

Fueled by Chocolate

Mostly Mildly Amusing Missives

Who I am

Still Trying to Figure Things Out


Books, Crime, Art, Autism and Body Language over a steaming coffee!


Thoughts & Ramblings regarding the Vancouver Canucks & other NHL ongoings...

Reject Reality

The world as I see it, according to myself.

DoubleU = W


Elan Mudrow


Bunny Kitchen

Exploring the possibilities of cruelty free food

Slow Writer

A quiet place to practice the craft

Babsje Heron

Great Blue Herons: A study in patience and grace

Fiction Favorites

with John W. Howell


Read our Mission. Find out how you can help us adopt James.


A Young Man From Wales That Writes Poetry......

Frazzler's Travels

A relaxed Blog about myself, concerning my observations and experiences in life.

Ramblings From an Apathetic Adult Baby

A non-comprehensive collection

Green Embers

Dreadfully astonishing affairs for nary a penny!

The D/A Dialogues

Where an author and her creation meet

helen midgley


b/JOUX (il lato B dei gioielli)

pezzi unici e creazioni originali, anche su ordinazione

valeriu dg barbu

©valeriu barbu

Delicious plant-based, whole food recipes & my healthy living tips!

Mary Hoops

spinning, making and other stuff

Songza Playlists - Tracklists

Find The Song Lists of All Your Favourite Songza Playlists

readful things blog

colourful language, colourful opinions

Tyler Fugazzie

<img class="wp-image-3230" src="" alt="" width="300" height="373" />

poetry penned in moon dust

poetry infused with art

Irish Katie

Ramblings, thoughts, and general nonsense floating in my head ...

Shivani Panchmatia's Blog

A world of thoughts and passions.... come share yours

50 Shades of me


Ute smile

Ute's Happy World

poetry by skull

The Musings of N. E. Skull

lynsey loves…

Healing, one delicious food at a time!

Don Charisma

because anything is possible with Charisma

t h e y h a v e t h e m o n e y || w e h a v e t h e s o u l

Through Harold's Lens

Harold Green Photography

Books, Music, Photography, & Movies

My views on the above and some...


Just posting my thoughts, pictures and the link below is my sons web site

advocatemmmohan aksharaalu

A great site