Coffee With Mr. Wistful Guy (Cup 1)

It was the third day of the month when I found myself strolling in an unknown street in town.Yes, I had lived more than a decade in this geographical place and most of that time indoor. I spent the daylight and nightlife inside my not-so-big bedroom of my grandparent's white and yellow bungalow house. You can find it three blocks away from the left side of Old Granny's Pies, the little town's fame for the best apple and blueberry pie in the county.

Am I an introvert? I guess I don't know how to answer that question. As you should know, most of the days you can find my nose buried in the pages of a book except the Sundays. That day of the week is sort of the bonding the time with my Granny Florencia and Grandpa Rick, both of them would pulled me out of my bed to go out with them. So, where do we usually spend the Sundays? Well, that is something I could not tell.

I was in the middle of Maple Street, lined with all sort of shops with large polished window glass when I accidentally bumped into someone. I almost fell on my butt if the guy in the jacket was not fast enough to hold my sweater. He held me up just in time before  I hit the ground.

"I am so sorry", I apologized.

I don't know whether he heard me or not. How could I even know that when he already walked away? Never mind that weird guy.

I halted to stop when a strong aroma of coffee caught my attention. My stomach rumbled which reminds me that I was not able to eat my plate of waffles and bacon for breakfast. I was in a hurry to leave the house for me to gobble that fabulous meal. If only Toli, my step dad did not came to visit me with Mom. Maybe, just maybe I would have stayed over breakfast. I stopped myself thinking what had happened before I could even start to cry.

Now, back to that coffee, where is that? It took me a minute to stumble across the source of the could-be-the-best cup of coffee in town. It was a small coffee house painted with red and has two circle windows made of wood. I went inside and the aroma hit me again. There are three round wooden tables in the three-corners of the coffee house. The other corner of the room is the coffee bar and the counter.

A guy in a black hoodie jacket fall in line behind me to the counter. After five minutes, I was already in front of the line.I was so hungry and thirsty for the coffee that I placed my order of their refillable cup of house blend coffee and glazed doughnuts before checking my pocket for money.

"That would be one hundred and fifty pesos", the woman in her 30's said in a tight smile as she handed the tray which holds my cup of freshly pressed coffee.

I pocketed my hand inside the front pocket of sweater jacket to get my purse only to find it empty. I know I had it inside my sweater.

"Miss, I think I lost my purse", I told the cashier in a low voice, "Can I just get back after I find it?"

The smile that she was holding in her face faded into a smug. She gave me that are-you-serious-you'll-think-I-believe-you look before shaking her head in answer.

"Do you think this is not the first time someone used the line in here to get free food? I am not stupid girl", she grunted.

"Look, do I look like a beggar to you? I have money and I just lost it on my way here. I'll get it and just wait for-"

I stopped when the guy in the black hoodie jacket move to the counter between me and the cashier.

"Excuse me", the guy said, "I'll just pay for her coffee."

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to be continued...