10:59 a.m.

10:59 a.m. 

If a waiter comes up to him for the nth time, he would be forced to leave. He was sitting on the same chair in the same café for three hours now. Waiting. She will show up, he knows it. He already have an idea that she must have been having a hard time trying to decide what to wear. He can picture her out now, her face all crinkled and whining in front of her closet full of clothes because she doesn’t have a decent thing to wear. She would probably be tossing bag after bag right now trying to match it with her outfit. He smiled the last time he saw her freak out because one side of her hair was done straightening with her iron but the other half wasn’t and they were going to be late for the party. He chuckled. She was something, alright. She was his something. And his something is running late, too.  

He saw that several people who came and went had already occupied the table across him. He noticed that the one next to him had a beautiful woman who had been staring at him since he came in. She was wearing a red top that matches the color of her lips and her eyes were heavily made up. A twilly covered her mass of curls taming them against her face. Her looks all but said, “She is never going to come.”                

He smiled at her and out of nowhere he said, “She takes a long time to get dressed, you know.” The woman was startled, raised her eyebrows at that and rolled her eyes. He realized he must have sounded so defensive but he didn’t care. She will show up. He can just imagine her lying on her bed and staring into space and the last time it happened he thought he must have done something to upset her.                                

 “What is it?” he asked.               

She looked away. “Nothing.”               

“Come on,” he stroked her cheek and made her face him. “You wouldn’t be like that if I did something wrong.”               

She stared at him for several minutes and he was almost panicky at the thought of upsetting her. Instead she bursts out laughing.               

“Silly boy!” she exclaimed between laughter. “Now you ruined my concentration. I was trying to match my pink skirt with something!”                               

He was able to breathe easily then. Women. Who can figure them out? But she was never the superficial kind. Matching clothes isn’t the only thing that goes on in her head. That’s what he loves about her. Yes, that’s what it is. He just knows that. That is why he wanted to see her. He wanted to tell her she isn not all about that.                  

The waiter came back and this time he brought the pitcher with him. “More coffee, sir?”                

He looked up and saw the eyes of the waiter.                 

“She’s gonna show up, you know.” He said.                

The waiter nodded. “Of course she will, sir.” And he poured hot steaming coffee on his still full cup.

               11:00 a.m.

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