THE COFFEE SHOP STALKER
In filth it will be found
A short story by Jason Youngman – Part 2
Jonathan hasn’t showered in over a week and he is still wearing the same cloths from the day before yesterday. There are woollies in his hair from grappling with his pillow during the night. The female washroom hasn’t been kept because the staff are super busy serving customers. There are drops of fresh diarrhea on the back rim of the toilet seat and someone left the hot water running, filling the room with a sticky hot mist. The over flowing garbage can has a bloody maxi-pad protruding from the tissue paper on top. It puts him in mind of the vanilla sundaes his Aunty used to buy him as a boy.
There’s a sharp knock on the door. The sound ricochets off every wall, filling Jonathan with a nervous trepidation. In a defeated war cry he informs the intruder that the washroom is in use. There is no response, except for footsteps that recede into the roaring chatter of the coffee shop. A warm glow of relief ripples through his scrawny physique as he examines himself in the mirror. Long neglected hairs that protrude from his nose blend into an unkept beard. What he sees remains a mystery, even to an omniscient narrator like me.
The psychology student notices that Jonathan has been in the washroom for quite some time. In an offhand way she is missing his attention. She is not as naive as most would think and is acutely aware of the affect she has over men, especially middle aged men who can afford to splurge her craving for high culture. A shadowy image of Jonathan appears in her cup again. The weight of his eyes press heavy upon her, as though he is trying to remove her clothing through telekinesis. She is determined to momentarily catch his eye as he passes by, a small gesture to signify that she might be interested.
Yet her divining cup deceives her. He stops to talk with a lonesome woman seated next to the bay window. Her mini skirt suggests that she’s 40 going on 20. Should one more button from her blouse come undone then the conversation may go in a different direction. Her sweltering perfume nearly taints the ambience into a brothel. Jonathan holds his form in the same fashion as a pick up artist from the 70’s. It’s impressive to watch but his little performance is for the student who just so happens to be watching the whole thing through the corner of her eye. To her surprise he pivots his body towards her, and she automatically stiffens up. This is all Jonathan needs to see as an incentive to pursue her, fresh meat to satisfy the wolf within.
(This is the second part of The Coffee Shop Stalker.)
Have you written anything else on age-identity? I can relate to each of these characters but never played the part when it was within my reach to do so. Always looking forward, looking back, all the while struggling to live in the moment while all we have left is to write about what might have been.