Creatures at the Cafe

He works at the counter. He is so awkward yet it is in much a beautiful way. I am blown away by his magnificence. I want to touch him. A man nearby strums on his guitar while peering around to see if anyone notices and admires him for this ability. He looks as if he just sat down and there was a guitar and he just picked it up casually and now he's just playing this guitar that he found by his feet. Play me a melody conjurer of guitars. A group of rambling old regulars argue over who should be able to speak next, even though they sit there all day every day and it doesn't really matter who speaks next because everyone will get a turn when you're dealing with forever. Two judgemental girls with dogs talk about judgemental people in their high chairs, looking down on all the people in their lives except each other. One of them leaves and the girl that's left makes a phone call and starts talking about the girl who had just departed. I strain to overhear the conversation that a crazy old man has with himself. It's funny though because he has his facts straight. I know this because I check them out on Google as he speaks with out telling him. Lawrence Nightingale did discover the importance of soap. How interesting, I think I will go wash my hands. A man sitting with a dog yells at the creature for barking. The dog begins to attack him at the Cafe in front of everyone. He drags his pet away. A moment later I see him riding by on his bike which is dragging a platform on wheels where his dog sits barking at him. It almost looks like dog sledding but the dog is riding the sled and the guy is pulling the dog. I can almost hear the dog yelling "faster, faster you idiot!" The man has let the dog control him. The beautiful man at the counter comes over to pick up a piece of trash by the feet of a beautiful girl. He plays it off as him just doing his job, but there is plenty of trash everywhere and he only picks up this tiny piece. I want to hug him and tell him I understand. I am unable to because I accidentally throw up in my mouth a little bit. I swallow it back down and pull out a cigarette. I stare at an old man sitting by himself at a table. I notice he is staring back so I smile at him. He smiles back. I look away. When I look back at him he's still staring at me and smiling. I realize I have given off the wrong message. He is too old for me. If I slept with him I would know death.