Clouds In My Coffee, Clouds In My Coffee!

WAYNE’S WORDS 

Volume 9 Number 02 

Clouds In My Coffee, Clouds In My Coffee!

I sat.

For just a beat.

I sat there.

Staring into my coffee cup.

I stared as the cold cream I had just added made micro-hurricane clouds on the surface of my hot, freshly poured cup of coffee.

As I watched the storm fade, the stinging didn't. The sting was from the words that had just been said to me. Words that were said to me as I took a breath on my side of a conversation. I had either just finished, or was on the verge of, saying something, when the words hit me. Something that was quite possibly insightful. Or silly. Or stupid. Or dark. It doesn't matter. The stinging words interjected their harshness.

The cream and the coffee had now become one. I was still reeling from the words.

Those stinging words.

I had been prepared to continue with the conversation. I like talking. I like listening. I like sharing. I like laughing. I like crying. I just like conversing. I don't always do it correctly, but I like to do it. I like to share thoughts and feelings, no matter how insignificantly silly or substantially worthwhile.

But...

Those stinging words.

I had heard the exact same words countless times before.

I had never been hurt by them.

This time was different.

I guess, this time, I had really HEARD them. Regardless of their definition, this time I had really understood their meaning.

I absentmindedly stirred my coffee to make absolutely sure all of the flavors of the cream and the sugar and the coffee and the stinging words were sufficiently blended. As I did so, I realized that I had heard them so many, many times before. Those stinging words. Sometimes there had been variations. Variations in the inflection. Variations in the actual words. But the sentence had always been the same.

It meant, "It's over. You're done here."

I wasn't ready for it to be over.

I was still enjoying it all.

I don't like this "sudden, but inevitable betrayal!"

Can't it be over when I say it is!? When I am damned good and ready!? When I want it to be over!?

I HATE THIS!

I don't know how long ago this practice started, but I want it to stop!

Still, some form of the following is spoken too often:

"There's no hurry, but I will just leave the check here... for when you are ready to leave."

It doesn't matter how nicely it is said, it still means "get out."

Dicks!

How about this, jagoff? I will tell YOU when I am ready for the check! Then you may bring it to me. Don't give it to me NOW with a passive-aggressive boot in my ass, kicking me to the curb!

Ugh! Now, where was I before the check was brought and our conversation was so rudely interrupted? I was probably saying something meaningful and deep about Firefly. Dammit! I can't remember! Shit! Let's just go!

And I had just gotten my coffee mixed just right!

DAMMIT!

Thanks, butthole!

Until Next Time,

Wayne