Traffic was hopping in Lantana,
The customers were bringing their particular preferences
To the baristas who knew how to overcharge for happiness.
One man, a regular, brought his semi-celebrity status
To the counter several times
In an attempt to work off last night’s buffet of excess.
He flexed his middle aged muscles
Under the unforgiving anatomical advertising of his Under Armour shirt
And ignored the twinge that tickled inside his gut.
Between coffees, he took to the patio
Burning off the rest of a cigar he
Saved in case he developed a bad taste in his mouth.
The pain came quickly
Leaving no time for a drive home,
He would have to take his show on the road.
He defied age demonstrating quickness and agility
As he navigated the waiting zombies
To make it to an unoccupied facility.
A woman entered the coffee house at that moment
She sported the cropped past fifty mom hair cut
That suggests a carefree attitude, but is more about impatience than anything.
She stood in line
Swaying from left to right.
She looked to the restroom doors with an uneasy gaze.
Finally, one door flew open
And the bald man strode out
With beads of sweat illustrating his effort.
The woman, in a similar panic as the man had been
Thought of following an elephant after it left an airplane loo,
The thought both gross and absurd, but not a deterrent.
She broke from her coffee commitment
To find relief from whatever her situation
In the unfriendly confines of the bald man’s incontinence.
There are times when a person must go
When getting to the porcelain triggers a process
That cannot be stopped.
For this woman, presenting herself as so prim,
So proper, but hiding an anger forged by a life spent raising others,
This would be a faucet stopping environment.
She showed the same prowess as the man
Whirling around and flying back through the door
Before the essence of a man could replace the burnt coffee smell on her clothes.
All the niceties cultivated in the hours of finding the right outfit and
All of the facades she painted to mask her aging visage
Left as the rage of a dollop stained bowl flushed out the myth of this woman.
Her trip back through the coffee shop was one part race to throw up
And one part, “Where is THAT MAN?,”
Either case suggesting a mess was about to be made.
Fortunately, the traffic in Lantana was still moving.
The cigar had been smoked and the bald man was gone.
The aging lady survived and ordered a Vanilla Bean Frap.
Photo Credit: Abdul Alifuddin via Pexels