CoffeeBeanShop

Morning Coffee

by Kristy Kowalske (bio after article)

Beanster's was packed when Alex made his way to the counter. He drank three cups of black coffee every morning. No sugar. No cream.

The queer was working this morning. Everything about the man made Alex sick to his stomach. The kid's long hair hung down his back, and his voice had a flaming lisp that must have taken years to master. Why would anyone choose to live a life screwing other men? Did he not understand the function of women on this earth? Alex reached for the Styrofoam cup. He didn't even want the queer to handle it or his money. Whenever he had change, he just waved it away as if it was a tip. Alex grabbed the cup and found a table by the window.

Grotesque creatures surrounded him. The coffee shop didn't even seem real. It was plastic, a replica of a once brilliant idea ruined by repetition and a lack of creativity. The entire world was slammed by this need, this desire to attract the brainless. And here he sat…just another brainless soul hugging the comfort of the ordinary. He paused as he lit his cigarette. Had he always been this way? When did his thoughts turn dark and twisted, sucked dry of all freshness?

A glint of light caught his eye. Tucked away in a corner table sat a heavily pierced, longhaired boy caught in the idiotic fads of youth. He probably thought the world was an ocean of opportunities. Just wait until the hurricane of bills, expectations, requests, and demands pounded inside that dread-locked head. Earrings, nose ring, tongue ring, eyebrow ring would all be removed. Tattoos would be covered. Chopped hair would fall to the floor as the freedom of youth lay executed by adulthood. Punk. Wasted youth. Someone should throw his ass into the army and teach him some real lessons about life. If he wanted to mutilate something, why not a Jap or a Vietcong rat instead of himself? The boy glared up at Alex as if he knew exactly what Alex had been thinking. Alex shifted his eyes down to his newspaper.

Death announced every article. Father Beats Newborn Daughter to Death. He was probably high on crack. Fire Kills Six in the Night. Did the people not own a damn smoke detector? Six people crammed into a mobile home and no damn smoke detector? Morons. Idiots. Baby Found in Dumpster. Did the mom not know that there are hundreds of couples willing to adopt? Had she never heard of birth control or abortion? People should have permits to have sex. Sterilization should be legal.

As Alex thought of legalized sterilization, his eyes rested upon a couple with a child seated in front of him. Looking as black as Alex's coffee, the man made the woman look an even paler shade of white. The child was the color of toffee. It's people like this who screw up the world, Alex thought. What is that child going to think while she's growing up? Is she black? Is she white? Why can't people just marry in their own race? There's a reason why God made different colors. Why couldn't people respect that? Black people are lazy and shifty and that woman can't be anything but white trash. How can they even have the audacity to show their faces in public? The little girl threw her pacifier towards Alex's table. He ignored it, so he wouldn't have to pick it up.

The door jangled open as a woman squeezed her way into the coffee shop. Who the hell was this oversized princess in pearls and hot pink tailor made suit? Who was she
fooling? How many pounds had she put on since her wedding day vows? Her husband probably wouldn't touch her if she tried to pay him. If it's one responsibility that all women should keep, it's to stay the same damn size through life. A husband doesn't deserve the surprise of one hundred and fifty extra pounds for a ten-year anniversary present. And, my god, if you look like a whale, hot pink is not your color. She pressed her way between the chairs sliding her butt across Alex's back still humming a song and smiling with bright, wide eyes. As she passed Alex, she turned and gave him a toothy smile and a chipper, "Good morning."

"I'll have a chocolate croissant and a grande mocha latte. Oh, and how about one of those cream cheese brownies," she ordered at the counter.

Does she have no clue what calories are? Weight Watchers! Hello! Alex watched as she sat down and sipped her coffee and ate her breakfast. In a whisper Alex heard the woman hiss, "What are you looking at pal? I'm a hell of a lot happier than you are."

Alex choked on his coffee. Her lips hadn't moved. Did she really say that? He looked back to his paper.

"Hey, mister." Alex heard the words, but he didn't know where they were coming from. "Yoo-hoo." Alex glanced at the pierced boy. His eyes were fixed on him. His mouth hadn't moved. "You know, your daughter was right. You are an asshole." Alex's mouth fell open. This morning his daughter had told him to go to hell. And for no reason. He was just trying to help her look normal. Everyday her hair seemed to be a different color and her makeup darker and her outfits more revealing. Dressing like a slut was something he would not tolerate from his daughter. He made her go inside and change before he would take her to school.

"Don't you remember what it was like being a teenager?" Alex heard. It seemed to have come from the queer working behind the counter. "And, yes, I am gay. You don't have anything to worry, though. You're not my type. I prefer my men to have their heads out of their asses. Oh, by the way, I licked the rim of your cup before you came in. Tastes good. Doesn't it?"

"Did you know that I'm a college professor?" the words came from the black man.

"Oh, and I am, too." The words came from his wife. "We affect more lives than you can possibly imagine."

Alex's heart raced and sweat began to trickle down his forehead. Comments flew through the air one after another. Faces shifted and twisted in front of him. All eyes were locked with his. He couldn't escape their looks. Dizziness gripped him.

"You're the one who's an idiot!"

"You don't have a clue to what this world is about!"

"You live in a cave."

"Judge people for what they are!"

Alex's head began to spin as he made his way out of Beanster's. He pushed people aside and covered his ears. He cried out for everyone to leave him alone. As he shoved the door open, he heard someone ask if he was okay. He couldn't answer. Sunlight blazed on his face as he inhaled the exhaust of the morning traffic.

Copyright © 2002 + © Kristy Kowalske. All Rights Reserved.

About Kristy Kowalske

Kristy Kowalske teaches middle school language arts and social studies in Hendersonville, NC. She especially loves to inspire students to have passion for reading and writing. Kristy enjoys writing short stories and poetry,and she's written a novel. She's also worked with the Mountain Area Writing Project based out of Western Carolina University for the past three summers.

Thanks for this provocative story, Kristy!

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