i dunno trying to get myself writing
ritually picking scabs
to separate flesh from fiction.
decaying foundations of idealism,
it's miserably ever after.
when the kiss becomes the poison,
suck the cure from the core.
beautiful dormant oblivion;
introspective paradise.
blessed with the bliss of ignorance.
comatose miracles,
the glass slipper fits the amputee.
when fairy tale fantisies
burn to the ground
and nighmares rise from the ashes,
the day of the apple has come.
One. love at first soccer mom
We met in a "Starbuck's" knock-off whose name, StarCups, was simply seeping with originality. As if the moniker itself was not enough of a blatant rip off, the sign above the door didn't merely resemble the familiar logo, it looked as if they used the same exact style of simple bold green lettering. The word Star, as far as I could see, was identical. The letter P looked as if it were an amputated version of the B. The only real difference between StarCups and "Starbuck's" was the letter U. As opposed to a green block letter, it was represented by a crudely designed white coffe cup with steam rising off the top. I have to say, it brought me inside with a smile ready to spend way too much money for a caffeine fix. Before I decided to venture in, I was wondering how long it would take before a team of corporate lawyers came and demanded a name change. I suppose it would depend on how successful their little capitalization became. The legal grounds would be minimal, if existant, but major corporations have the time, power, and money to bully the smaller competition around. Anyways, the sign had brightened my day, as I took it as a nice little fuck you to corporate America, so I decided to wander in and spend four bucks on a fifty cent coffee drink.
I went to pull open the door on the left of the two and it was locked. I shuddered. Not really quite sure why, but going through the right door bugs me. I almost decided not to go in because of it, illogical as it may seem. I was about to turn and walk away when I saw her through the window. I could barely tell what she looked like through the tint, but for some reason I felt something, something somewhat like a punch in the gut. A hard punch. My heart started pounding and I thought to myself, "...this is more illogical than the reason I was gonna walk away without my coffee..." I figured fuck it, took a deep breath, swung the door open, and walked in.
I tried to play it cool, casually browsing the menu. The place was more or less empty, aside from a couple at the table nearest the door having a softly spoken argument while sipping lattes and a guy sitting in the most isolated corner of the cafe drinking black coffee out of a travel mug bearing the StarCups logo typing furiously on his laptop. The girl behind the counter looked up from the latest issue of "Alternative Press" and smiled. She smiled one of those smiles that takes your breath hostage and sends shivering waves throughout your body, starting at the ankles and shooting upwards, shivers that are warm and cold, shivers that hurt and heal. I tried my best to smile as deeply, but I'm sure it came across as weak and held back. This is the part where I normally clam up and drop to a three word vocabulary. This time though, I felt something strange building inside of me, something empowering. I knew just what to say, but when I opened my mouth, no words would come. I got a moment of that "What the hell is wrong with you?" look before she mercifully broke the silence.
"Can I help you with something?"
"I'll take a Venti Mocha."
She rolled her eyes drastically, accompanied by a face that was somewhere between annoyed and disgusted. Exactly what I was hoping for. I felt a rush of confidence flow through me and my vocabulary was no longer stunted.
"I was just kidding."
She kinda smirked and rolled her emerald green eyes again, this time though it was more slow and deliberate. Strange how the slightest discrepencies can make the same gesture mean multiple things.
"I bet you get that a lot though, with your incredibly...unique...sign."
She pushed her long reddish brown hair back out of her eyes and smiled at me again. I felt my heart skip a beat. Of course, since things seemed to be going well, my body temperature had to rise and form horribly embarrassing little beads of sweat along my hairline. I tried to nonchalantly wipe it away. She didn't acknowledge if she noticed.
"You know, I've come to expect it here. I mean, probably at least a third of the customers that walk in here off the street think they're at "Starbuck's". What really does bug me is that before I got this job, I worked in this great little independent coffee house called Wicked Buzz. The place thrived with incredibly talented young people writing and doing artwork, sharing and growing as artists and people. Even there..."
I couldn't help but cut her off.
"Suburbanite soccer moms still drive their silver Mercedes SUV's through the front door and demand a Grande Mocha Valencia?"
"Exactly, like Starbuck's terminology has become the fucking society wide standard for coffee house rhetoric."
We both laughed. Not that kinda soft, awkward held back laugh that is all you, or at least I, feel comfortable releasing around someone you hardly know. No, we laughed that laughter that makes the world beautiful, the laughter that comes straight from the soul.
I felt a draft as the door opened behind me, and go figure, in walks one of my suburbanite soccer moms wearing (gasp!) jeans and a t-shirt. Two kids followed, covered in dirt and grime. They were both boys and looked to be somewhere between seven and nine and wearing uniforms, probably soccer.
I whispered, "I'll bet you a drink that outside is some kinda SUV with sheets of plastic shielding the leather seats from the filth on the children."
"You're on." she said with a soft shy and cute smile, not the beaming one I first saw. "Did you want anything by the way?"
"Not until I either don't have to pay or have to by you something too."
She shook her head and waited on the soccer mom. I walked to the window and saw an El Dorado, brand new or perfectly maintained. I couldn't be all wrong at least, it might have been a little illogically embarassing if whe got into a Ford Taurus or something.
"I'll take a medium half decaf, half regular sugar free soy based mocha."
The girl let out a sigh, as this woman had ordered one of the most obnoxious things to make, surprisingly not asking for a grande. She was quick though, clearly very good at her job.
"Anything else?"
"Two chocolate chip cookies and a plain biscotti."
She got the cookies and the kids immediately grabbed them with their filthy hands.
"Not Yet. You boys will NOT eat those before dinner. Sorry, what's my total?"
“8.47 all together.”
“Ok. I’ve got this gift certificate to pay with, it’s for fifteen dollars.”
Since I was standing behind the woman, I got the first view of her Starbuck’s gift certificate and damn near pissed myself. The cafe girl heard me choking on a laugh and gave me a confused yet intrigued look. She took the certificate and couldn’t hold back entirely. She snorted, a deep, loud, clearly caused by trying not to laugh, snort.
“We’re not Starbuck’s unfortunately. We can’t take this certificate.”
“You’re not? Can you take it anyways, it expires today and I really want to use it.”
“Um...Actually no, because since we are not, in fact, Starbuck’s, that certificate has no value to us. It is merely a piece of paper and if I took it, I would quite possibly lose my job.”
“Oh..Well never mind then, I don’t want this stuff now, I am going to go to Starbucks..”
The kids were chewing away on their cookies while their mother was preoccupied. Their faces were smeared with chocolate and the cookies were half eaten and covered in dirt.
“Give me those NOW.”
Mrs. Bitch grabbed the cookies and threw them on the counter and turned to walk out, as if the cookies hadn’t been touched.
“Excuse me, you can pass on the coffee but these cookies are not resellable. Amongst other things, they are half eaten. The biscotti is fine, but I’m going to need three dollars for the cookies please.”
The woman actually took offense. She swung around screaming in such a shrill tone that it was incomprehensible. Something about not appreciating the attitude and a desire to speak with the manager in loud language far too colorful for the ears of her poor children.
“Fine, I’ll get the manager for you.”
She walked into the back and when she emerged she was followed by a man who looked to be in his mid to late thirties wearing a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the top button unhooked. He was wearing a smile that was clearly forced, thinly masking a furious anger. My guess was that he heard from the back room and was as disgusted as I was with the customer. The girl from behind the cafe had a cigarette hanging out of her mouth.
“You smoke?” she asked.
“Only about a pack a day.”
She smiled. “Let’s go.”
“By the way, my name’s Stu.” I said confidently as I took a Camel Twist out of the tin and sparked it.
She leaned forward so I would light her cigarette for her. “I’m Serendipity. Can you even believe that BITCH?”
“That’s the world we are living in. People are so selfish and don’t see any good reason to avoid stepping on people. Will your manager be on the right side?” I noticed a piece of plastic stuck in the rear passenger side door of the El Dorado and pointed.
“Oh yeah, he looks like an older guy, but that man will never grow up. He’ll probably wonder why I was so polite. He’s pretty cool with stuff like that.”
“Nice. You have a beautiful name by the way.”
“Really? I’m not so convinced. It seems a little strange to me, I’ve never met another person with the name, not so sure I like it. I was actually considering having it legally changed to something more generic a few months back, but decided it wasn’t worth the hassle.”
“What’s wrong with being unique?”
“Nothing I guess, hadn’t thought about it that way. Such an interesting conversation about nothing we are having isn’t it?”
“That’s the best kind of conversation you can have. It’s not usually so comfortable with people you just met, at least for me it isn’t. I get really good vibes from you though, feel like I already knew you or something.”
“Thanks, I think. You don’t seem so bad yourself.” She was blushing. Blushing is always good. I walked up to soccer mom of the day’s SUV and looked in the window and laughed at the sight.
“There’s no way...that would just be too funny to be real.” She looked inside, and sure enough, the seats were covered in a thin clear sheet of muddy plastic. There was even a bright blue tarp laid out across the floor. “Guess I owe you a drink on the house.” We both started cracking up.
I turned around, still laughing just in time to see Serendipity’s new best friend try to storm through the locked door, ramming into it so hard it almost knocked her over. The other door swung open and slammed against the side of the building.
“I’M NEVER COMING BACK TO THIS PLACE!!!” She basically threw her kids into the car and peeled out like a pissed off teenager as she sped away.
I remembered all of a sudden that I was smoking a cigarette, the memory being jogged by a sudden intense burning feeling between my pointer and middle fingers on my left hand. “Shit!” I yelled, throwing the cigarette which had burned all the way down to the filter.
Serendipity smirked at me. “Real smooth buddy.” She took the last drag of her cigarette, which, had I not been the first to get burned, would have done the same to her. I rolled my eyes at her. Gently, playfully, not with anything rude behind the gesture. “Gotta get back inside. You coming?”
I followed her back into the cafe.
“Sounds like that went well Bill. Tell us a story.”
“Not too much to tell. I made her pay me for the cookies and she screamed at me the whole time, somehow failing entirely to see how completely ridiculous she was being. I told her I didn’t appreciate the way she was acting in my store, asked her to leave, and told her she was setting a horrible example for her children. That’s when she just about killed herself with a locked door.”
We all shared a laugh at that. Serendipity surprised me by introducing me to her manager, like we were old friends or something.
“Just so ya know Ser, I didn’t ring the cookies, I put the three bucks in with your tips. Figured you deserved it for keeping your cool, that was one of the most difficult human beings I’ve ever met.” Bill wandered back to whatever was behind the door he came out of.
“Thank you Bill!”
“For what? I didn’t do anything.” He turned back and winked before disappearing into the back room.
“Alright, Stu, what can I get for you?”
“I don’t know, what’s good?”
“Almost everything we sell.” She smirked at me. I knew she wasn’t going to help me choose, one of those...what will he pick tests, where the result doesn’t really matter other than to satisfy some curiosity.
“Let’s see, something with lots of caffeine, I have a long night ahead of me. Let’s go with...” I browse the menu, carrying the word with for all its worth. “A white chocolate mocha with an extra shot of espresso.”
“Alright then, what size do you want?”
“Well, since it’s free, might as well go for broke and make it large. Can I supersize that?”
She shook her head. “You’re an ass.” She started making my drink.
“Better than an asshole I guess.”
“So what do you do? You obviously know what I do, or at least where I work.”
“I just started working at Shangri-La Records, so I’m right next door.”
“Awesome, I love that place. They’ve always got all sorts of things that mainstream record stores wouldn’t be caught dead carrying, and even some things most independent record stores don’t carry. I blow about a third of every paycheck in there. Do you get a discount?”
“I sure do. 33% off, it is a beautiful thing, though dangerous, there’s a very high risk that I will give them back all the money they pay me.”
“I hear that, working next door is dangerous enough. 33% off is a kick ass discount though.”
I looked at my watch. It was 3:57. “Shit I gotta get back, if I get fired I won’t get a discount! Seriously though, break time is over. Can’t be late coming back on day one. It was nice meeting you.”
“Yeah, you too. I’m sure I’ll see you around sometime soon. Maybe we can work out an arrangement, free coffee for cheap cd’s. Just a thought.”
“I’ll THINK about it.” I winked at her, along with a warm smile that said “of course you will get the discount.” On my way out, I intentionally walked into the locked door, mocking our soccer mom friend, dramatically falling to the floor swearing I was going to sue and let my two dirty boys play catch with all the cookies. Another round of laughter and it was back to work.
to separate flesh from fiction.
decaying foundations of idealism,
it's miserably ever after.
when the kiss becomes the poison,
suck the cure from the core.
beautiful dormant oblivion;
introspective paradise.
blessed with the bliss of ignorance.
comatose miracles,
the glass slipper fits the amputee.
when fairy tale fantisies
burn to the ground
and nighmares rise from the ashes,
the day of the apple has come.
One. love at first soccer mom
We met in a "Starbuck's" knock-off whose name, StarCups, was simply seeping with originality. As if the moniker itself was not enough of a blatant rip off, the sign above the door didn't merely resemble the familiar logo, it looked as if they used the same exact style of simple bold green lettering. The word Star, as far as I could see, was identical. The letter P looked as if it were an amputated version of the B. The only real difference between StarCups and "Starbuck's" was the letter U. As opposed to a green block letter, it was represented by a crudely designed white coffe cup with steam rising off the top. I have to say, it brought me inside with a smile ready to spend way too much money for a caffeine fix. Before I decided to venture in, I was wondering how long it would take before a team of corporate lawyers came and demanded a name change. I suppose it would depend on how successful their little capitalization became. The legal grounds would be minimal, if existant, but major corporations have the time, power, and money to bully the smaller competition around. Anyways, the sign had brightened my day, as I took it as a nice little fuck you to corporate America, so I decided to wander in and spend four bucks on a fifty cent coffee drink.
I went to pull open the door on the left of the two and it was locked. I shuddered. Not really quite sure why, but going through the right door bugs me. I almost decided not to go in because of it, illogical as it may seem. I was about to turn and walk away when I saw her through the window. I could barely tell what she looked like through the tint, but for some reason I felt something, something somewhat like a punch in the gut. A hard punch. My heart started pounding and I thought to myself, "...this is more illogical than the reason I was gonna walk away without my coffee..." I figured fuck it, took a deep breath, swung the door open, and walked in.
I tried to play it cool, casually browsing the menu. The place was more or less empty, aside from a couple at the table nearest the door having a softly spoken argument while sipping lattes and a guy sitting in the most isolated corner of the cafe drinking black coffee out of a travel mug bearing the StarCups logo typing furiously on his laptop. The girl behind the counter looked up from the latest issue of "Alternative Press" and smiled. She smiled one of those smiles that takes your breath hostage and sends shivering waves throughout your body, starting at the ankles and shooting upwards, shivers that are warm and cold, shivers that hurt and heal. I tried my best to smile as deeply, but I'm sure it came across as weak and held back. This is the part where I normally clam up and drop to a three word vocabulary. This time though, I felt something strange building inside of me, something empowering. I knew just what to say, but when I opened my mouth, no words would come. I got a moment of that "What the hell is wrong with you?" look before she mercifully broke the silence.
"Can I help you with something?"
"I'll take a Venti Mocha."
She rolled her eyes drastically, accompanied by a face that was somewhere between annoyed and disgusted. Exactly what I was hoping for. I felt a rush of confidence flow through me and my vocabulary was no longer stunted.
"I was just kidding."
She kinda smirked and rolled her emerald green eyes again, this time though it was more slow and deliberate. Strange how the slightest discrepencies can make the same gesture mean multiple things.
"I bet you get that a lot though, with your incredibly...unique...sign."
She pushed her long reddish brown hair back out of her eyes and smiled at me again. I felt my heart skip a beat. Of course, since things seemed to be going well, my body temperature had to rise and form horribly embarrassing little beads of sweat along my hairline. I tried to nonchalantly wipe it away. She didn't acknowledge if she noticed.
"You know, I've come to expect it here. I mean, probably at least a third of the customers that walk in here off the street think they're at "Starbuck's". What really does bug me is that before I got this job, I worked in this great little independent coffee house called Wicked Buzz. The place thrived with incredibly talented young people writing and doing artwork, sharing and growing as artists and people. Even there..."
I couldn't help but cut her off.
"Suburbanite soccer moms still drive their silver Mercedes SUV's through the front door and demand a Grande Mocha Valencia?"
"Exactly, like Starbuck's terminology has become the fucking society wide standard for coffee house rhetoric."
We both laughed. Not that kinda soft, awkward held back laugh that is all you, or at least I, feel comfortable releasing around someone you hardly know. No, we laughed that laughter that makes the world beautiful, the laughter that comes straight from the soul.
I felt a draft as the door opened behind me, and go figure, in walks one of my suburbanite soccer moms wearing (gasp!) jeans and a t-shirt. Two kids followed, covered in dirt and grime. They were both boys and looked to be somewhere between seven and nine and wearing uniforms, probably soccer.
I whispered, "I'll bet you a drink that outside is some kinda SUV with sheets of plastic shielding the leather seats from the filth on the children."
"You're on." she said with a soft shy and cute smile, not the beaming one I first saw. "Did you want anything by the way?"
"Not until I either don't have to pay or have to by you something too."
She shook her head and waited on the soccer mom. I walked to the window and saw an El Dorado, brand new or perfectly maintained. I couldn't be all wrong at least, it might have been a little illogically embarassing if whe got into a Ford Taurus or something.
"I'll take a medium half decaf, half regular sugar free soy based mocha."
The girl let out a sigh, as this woman had ordered one of the most obnoxious things to make, surprisingly not asking for a grande. She was quick though, clearly very good at her job.
"Anything else?"
"Two chocolate chip cookies and a plain biscotti."
She got the cookies and the kids immediately grabbed them with their filthy hands.
"Not Yet. You boys will NOT eat those before dinner. Sorry, what's my total?"
“8.47 all together.”
“Ok. I’ve got this gift certificate to pay with, it’s for fifteen dollars.”
Since I was standing behind the woman, I got the first view of her Starbuck’s gift certificate and damn near pissed myself. The cafe girl heard me choking on a laugh and gave me a confused yet intrigued look. She took the certificate and couldn’t hold back entirely. She snorted, a deep, loud, clearly caused by trying not to laugh, snort.
“We’re not Starbuck’s unfortunately. We can’t take this certificate.”
“You’re not? Can you take it anyways, it expires today and I really want to use it.”
“Um...Actually no, because since we are not, in fact, Starbuck’s, that certificate has no value to us. It is merely a piece of paper and if I took it, I would quite possibly lose my job.”
“Oh..Well never mind then, I don’t want this stuff now, I am going to go to Starbucks..”
The kids were chewing away on their cookies while their mother was preoccupied. Their faces were smeared with chocolate and the cookies were half eaten and covered in dirt.
“Give me those NOW.”
Mrs. Bitch grabbed the cookies and threw them on the counter and turned to walk out, as if the cookies hadn’t been touched.
“Excuse me, you can pass on the coffee but these cookies are not resellable. Amongst other things, they are half eaten. The biscotti is fine, but I’m going to need three dollars for the cookies please.”
The woman actually took offense. She swung around screaming in such a shrill tone that it was incomprehensible. Something about not appreciating the attitude and a desire to speak with the manager in loud language far too colorful for the ears of her poor children.
“Fine, I’ll get the manager for you.”
She walked into the back and when she emerged she was followed by a man who looked to be in his mid to late thirties wearing a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the top button unhooked. He was wearing a smile that was clearly forced, thinly masking a furious anger. My guess was that he heard from the back room and was as disgusted as I was with the customer. The girl from behind the cafe had a cigarette hanging out of her mouth.
“You smoke?” she asked.
“Only about a pack a day.”
She smiled. “Let’s go.”
“By the way, my name’s Stu.” I said confidently as I took a Camel Twist out of the tin and sparked it.
She leaned forward so I would light her cigarette for her. “I’m Serendipity. Can you even believe that BITCH?”
“That’s the world we are living in. People are so selfish and don’t see any good reason to avoid stepping on people. Will your manager be on the right side?” I noticed a piece of plastic stuck in the rear passenger side door of the El Dorado and pointed.
“Oh yeah, he looks like an older guy, but that man will never grow up. He’ll probably wonder why I was so polite. He’s pretty cool with stuff like that.”
“Nice. You have a beautiful name by the way.”
“Really? I’m not so convinced. It seems a little strange to me, I’ve never met another person with the name, not so sure I like it. I was actually considering having it legally changed to something more generic a few months back, but decided it wasn’t worth the hassle.”
“What’s wrong with being unique?”
“Nothing I guess, hadn’t thought about it that way. Such an interesting conversation about nothing we are having isn’t it?”
“That’s the best kind of conversation you can have. It’s not usually so comfortable with people you just met, at least for me it isn’t. I get really good vibes from you though, feel like I already knew you or something.”
“Thanks, I think. You don’t seem so bad yourself.” She was blushing. Blushing is always good. I walked up to soccer mom of the day’s SUV and looked in the window and laughed at the sight.
“There’s no way...that would just be too funny to be real.” She looked inside, and sure enough, the seats were covered in a thin clear sheet of muddy plastic. There was even a bright blue tarp laid out across the floor. “Guess I owe you a drink on the house.” We both started cracking up.
I turned around, still laughing just in time to see Serendipity’s new best friend try to storm through the locked door, ramming into it so hard it almost knocked her over. The other door swung open and slammed against the side of the building.
“I’M NEVER COMING BACK TO THIS PLACE!!!” She basically threw her kids into the car and peeled out like a pissed off teenager as she sped away.
I remembered all of a sudden that I was smoking a cigarette, the memory being jogged by a sudden intense burning feeling between my pointer and middle fingers on my left hand. “Shit!” I yelled, throwing the cigarette which had burned all the way down to the filter.
Serendipity smirked at me. “Real smooth buddy.” She took the last drag of her cigarette, which, had I not been the first to get burned, would have done the same to her. I rolled my eyes at her. Gently, playfully, not with anything rude behind the gesture. “Gotta get back inside. You coming?”
I followed her back into the cafe.
“Sounds like that went well Bill. Tell us a story.”
“Not too much to tell. I made her pay me for the cookies and she screamed at me the whole time, somehow failing entirely to see how completely ridiculous she was being. I told her I didn’t appreciate the way she was acting in my store, asked her to leave, and told her she was setting a horrible example for her children. That’s when she just about killed herself with a locked door.”
We all shared a laugh at that. Serendipity surprised me by introducing me to her manager, like we were old friends or something.
“Just so ya know Ser, I didn’t ring the cookies, I put the three bucks in with your tips. Figured you deserved it for keeping your cool, that was one of the most difficult human beings I’ve ever met.” Bill wandered back to whatever was behind the door he came out of.
“Thank you Bill!”
“For what? I didn’t do anything.” He turned back and winked before disappearing into the back room.
“Alright, Stu, what can I get for you?”
“I don’t know, what’s good?”
“Almost everything we sell.” She smirked at me. I knew she wasn’t going to help me choose, one of those...what will he pick tests, where the result doesn’t really matter other than to satisfy some curiosity.
“Let’s see, something with lots of caffeine, I have a long night ahead of me. Let’s go with...” I browse the menu, carrying the word with for all its worth. “A white chocolate mocha with an extra shot of espresso.”
“Alright then, what size do you want?”
“Well, since it’s free, might as well go for broke and make it large. Can I supersize that?”
She shook her head. “You’re an ass.” She started making my drink.
“Better than an asshole I guess.”
“So what do you do? You obviously know what I do, or at least where I work.”
“I just started working at Shangri-La Records, so I’m right next door.”
“Awesome, I love that place. They’ve always got all sorts of things that mainstream record stores wouldn’t be caught dead carrying, and even some things most independent record stores don’t carry. I blow about a third of every paycheck in there. Do you get a discount?”
“I sure do. 33% off, it is a beautiful thing, though dangerous, there’s a very high risk that I will give them back all the money they pay me.”
“I hear that, working next door is dangerous enough. 33% off is a kick ass discount though.”
I looked at my watch. It was 3:57. “Shit I gotta get back, if I get fired I won’t get a discount! Seriously though, break time is over. Can’t be late coming back on day one. It was nice meeting you.”
“Yeah, you too. I’m sure I’ll see you around sometime soon. Maybe we can work out an arrangement, free coffee for cheap cd’s. Just a thought.”
“I’ll THINK about it.” I winked at her, along with a warm smile that said “of course you will get the discount.” On my way out, I intentionally walked into the locked door, mocking our soccer mom friend, dramatically falling to the floor swearing I was going to sue and let my two dirty boys play catch with all the cookies. Another round of laughter and it was back to work.