Scrambled

It’s an early morning, but I lively morning in the coffee shop.  Well, everyone in here is a little livelier than I am right now.  Two men sit at the window table. Both on the edge of their seat deep in conversation.  I don’t even think they realize they have coffee ready for them. They haven’t touched their coffee sense I got here. 

A chocolate lab dog sits right outside the door of the shop. Barking and wining, the dog paces back and forth begging for attention from someone.  It has a collar but no tags. I think he is a stray at least, or his owner is somewhere in here. 

The table to my right sits an old woman, a boy with long hair, and a man around 30 with a beard.  The part of the conversation that caught my eye, was when the man tells the old woman, “We shoulda called the cops! Because it’s only a matter of time.”   The old woman and the man both notice how concentrated the little boy was on their conversation, and quickly changed the subject and started talking in Spanish.  The man started naming off a bunch of common Hispanic names, saying that all these individuals had done is “pissed everyone off.” The little boy was just sitting there quietly, drinking his pine apple juice from the can.  The man then tries to include the boy in conversation so he doesn’t feel left out.  He asks him what his name is, and they shake hands. The boy seemed happy to have been notices.  The shop worker brings a plate of eggs to the old woman.  The man quickly apologizes for taking up the old woman’s time and swiftly leaves with a happy step.  What???  I am confused on what their conversation was about.  It seemed like a very personal conversation, but when he got up to leave, it seemed like they barely knew each other.  The old woman and the boy continue to sit there and share the eggs, talking about what their favorite way to prepare their eggs is.  The boy then talks about his father living in Washington, and when he will be able to go see him next.  It makes me wonder if the boy comes from a broken family.  The old lady doesn’t seem like his grandmother, because she keeps referring to the boy as “her friend.” With a few more quick bites of egg, they get up and leave. 

Behind me there are two men and two separate tables.  They haven’t moved much. One is looking at a magazine while the other one is on his computer. 

I notice a table of three men talking about Ireland. Two high school boys walk in and sit down where the old lady and boy were.  They are next to the three men, sitting close to the tallest man at the table.  I believe the tall man is the boy’s father, because of the similar height and facial features.  The boys focus on the iced coffee and oatmeal they ordered.  They did not seem interested in their dads boring conversation, so they turned to talk to each other and eat breakfast.  As the three men’s conversation came to an end, the tallest man tells a man with an earring, that if he changes his mind, to let him know.  The tall man then explains that whatever they are talking about is at a four mile pace.  I assume now that they are discussing some kind of race. It is clear now that they are because they keep mentioning marathons and 10k, in the conversation.  The high school boys tell their dad they are deciding to head out.  Before they go, they clear the table for the three men. I can tell that the boys have great manners, discipline and respect, coming from a similar background. 

The shop is quickly filling up with the line reaching outside the door now.  A lot of the people that have more than one person in their group keep looking at me, wondering why I took post at a four person table.  Although it was the only table open when I got here, I guess I will leave and grant their wish.