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Date Posted: July 21, 05:32:pm GMT-5
Author: Xanthe
Subject: Cafe Attractions
In reply to: Xanthe 's message, "5 Sensations" on July 21, 05:17:pm GMT-5

Cafe Attractions

I sit in a cafe, sip fogged tap water, inhale stale tobacco and listen to Lila. She tells me of her boyfriend, their most recent plate-smashing, glass-breaking fight. She says no one ever gets hurt in those fights, they do it for the pretty noise. I give a short laugh, wonder if she realizes I do not care. I watch her lips open and shut, revealing straight white teeth, cavity free, I believe, and a thick pink tongue. I wonder if that is the shape of my own tongue. She laughs with her mouth open, I do not know why but I join in heartily. I realize she has stained her perfect teeth with her pink lipstick. I ask myself if I am close enough to Lila to tell her. I decide no.

I gaze beyond Lila's left shoulder and see a man gazing in my direction. He is good-looking and probably has had many women. I survey his smooth navy pants and simple white shirt. He notices this and smiles. I am about to smile back when he turns back to the paperwork on his table. I hate him for having a big ego, for not feeling awkward sitting alone, for knowing I want to look into his eyes again.

Lila says she is hungry, suggests we order some food. I nod and signal to a waiter. His face is plain but has nice thick brows and a sincere smile. I glance to the left of Lila's shoulders and realize he is looking at me again. My face flushed from his stare, I quickly ask the waiter to tell us the specials. He replies, "I'm pretty special." I laugh with all my femininity and put my hand on his arm briefly. The waiter thinks I am beautiful. I glance at the man with the paperwork and realize he is not looking. After taking our orders (smoked salmon for me, beef burger for Lila), the waiter lingers a moment too long, still engrossed. I tell him I am hungry.

I sip water again and light another cigarette, confused by the man. Lila snaps her fingers in front of my face. She says something and laughs again. I laugh with her, then apologize for not hearing what she just said. I stare at the man too obviously and Lila turns around. She tells me I have good taste but he probably has a girlfriend. I imagine him with a leggy woman, an intellectual with the mind of an artist, probably the kind of woman who has manicured nails and high cheekbones. I look down at my own thickening legs hidden by loose jeans and then at my plain hands, arms, and breasts and no longer wonder why I have had only one true love and more than three handfuls of one-night affairs.

I decide to ignore him and concentrate on Lila. I must show sympathy and love. Besides, I reason, she will owe me, in case I ever need someone to tell my problems to. The food comes. I take no notice of the stares of the waiter and do not thank him for the prompt service. He feels rejected and begins making himself feel better by inventing nasty stories about me in his head. He classifies me as a slut, or user, or just plain mean. I try not to care.

As we eat and Lila talks, I sense the man's presence but never look at him. I force myself to look at Lila. I feel uncomfortable knowing the waiter hates me, knowing the man does not think me beautiful. She finishes twelve minutes after I am already done and is finally ready to go. I leave the waiter a ten-dollar tip for a twenty-dollar meal. My boots make music on the floor as we pass the man's table. He does not give me one glance. A skinny brown-haired woman enters the caf� as we leave and wounds our nostrils with imitation perfume. Once outside in the cold air, Lila and I laugh, mocking her orange scarf that hangs down to her knees. We are about to cross the street when I turn my head back toward the caf� and look through the window to where the man sits. He sits intimately with the smelly skinny woman. I am horrified. They kiss on the lips.

Lila notices them and looks at me sympathetically. She takes my hand as a friend would and leads me through the traffic, across the street, and away from the cafe.

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