December 06, 2002
Coffee shop
On his way back from a refill of coffee he accidentally sits down at the wrong table. Since he has his book with him he doesn't really notice but after sitting there for about thirty seconds reading he gets an idea and looks up to find his laptop is on the wrong table and has been replaced by a young purple-haired girl who is hunched over a small journal writing furiously with a very large caligraphy pen, which only allows her room for about two words per page so she is constantly turning the page to write. She does this with one hand, the other holds the pen out still pointing in, waiting for the clean page to appear. He stares at her too long and she looks up.
"Hi."
"Isn't that your table?"
"What are you writing about?" he says while taking a slow sip of coffee even though it is much too hot, really only touching the cup to his lips.
"Nothing to do with you asshole" she says and gives him her best 'I am a pycho' stare until he gets up and leaves.
"Can I ask you a logistical question?" he says upon arriving at his destination, which suddenly seems almost comically close to her's whereas a minute ago they didn't even notice each other. "How much money do you spend a month on those little journals, you must go through like two a day the way you are writing about me".
"I use disappearing ink, and I am not -"
"Ok, that is all I wanted to know, nice talking to you."
She rolls her eyes and hurries to replace 'cute guy' with 'world-class prick' before the ink fades.