Why Coffee Shops Shouldn’t Have Booths

“She’d be pretty hot,“ he thought, “were it not for that blue hair and those combat boots. Why does every girl these days think she has to save the world from men?”

“Look at that a-hole in his business suit,“ she inwardly laughed. ”It’s a knock-off. There is no way that putz can afford Brooks Bros.”

“My God! She’s drinking an espresso with a Monster chaser! She must be fried!”

”Hmph! A dude with green tea and a blueberry yogurt? What kind of guy does that? Must be gay... not that there’s anything wrong with that.”

”Her backpack is probably full of Antifa shit.”

”A hundred bucks says there’s a ‘Maxim’ in his briefcase.”

”Oh shit! She has a bar code tattooed on her wrist!“ He pulls down his cuff, glancing at the bar code tattoo on his own arm that he’d gotten when he was younger.

”Hmmm… Asshole’s paying with a “Black” card. Maybe that is real Brooks Bros.?”

Smiles. ”She’s talking to her mother! Reminds me, I’m supposed to change out Mom’s smoke alarm batteries.”

Smiles. “He’s playing Candy Crush! A suit guy like that!”

She pretends to not pay attention as he walks out. “Very hot.” She thinks. “The kind a girl wouldn’t mind running into again sometime. Too bad a guy like that wouldn’t be headed to the gym.” She picks up the backpack with her workout clothes.

”Very pretty,“ he thinks as he walks by her table on his way to the gym. “Independent, too. I really wouldn’t mind meeting someone like her… probably have nothing in common though”