Cafe, Bow. 4th January

A student arrives after his girlfriend and joins her at a table in the window. His jeans end an inch above his ankles and show off new boots that are designed to look like old boots.

“Alright?”

“I’ve not ordered for ye.”

“Oh that’s alright, what are you getting?”

“I’ve not ordered for me.”

“Oh right.”

He squints at the menu on the far wall.

“Let me guess what I should have got you,” she says. “Ummm… the number 1.”

“…..oh…. Yeah, that’d do alright.” He doesn’t sound convinced.

“I knew it! I’m getting number 8.”

He goes to the counter and orders a number 8 for her - and a number 1 for himself.

***

The owner takes my plate. A few minutes later he’s back hovering on the balls of his feet. He cranes his neck to see into my mug. It’s half full of black coffee.

“Oh! Sorry… I am putting on a wash and I like to put everything in at the same time. It keeps everything going.”

I smile apologetically and return to my paper. He’s still standing there. His eyes flick to the mug and back to me. And back to mug. Still half full.

He walks off defeated.

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