Outside The Brewster

“Excuse me…”

“Me?”

“Yes. I’m sorry to bother you, but are you, by any chance, Sophia?”

“No. Sorry. I’m Gabby.”

“I wouldn’t say so. Not excessively, anyway.”

“What?”

“I was making a joke about your name. You know, being ‘gabby?’”

“Oh. Yes. Of course.”

“My name is Clark.”

“Oh.”

“You may ask, ‘Hmmm… Clark… that’s an unusual name. How did you come to be named Clark?’”

“Let’s say I did ask that.”

“Thank you. It turns out that back in the 60’s there was a commercial for Clark candy bars that showed a giraffe saying, ‘I want a Clark bar’ in a way that made my grandfather laugh. So, he named his new son ‘Clark,’ and that man, my dad, named me Clark too.”

“Clark two? Like the number two?”

“No, like the also kind of too. Actually, I’m Clark Junior. Unless you’re a king or an emperor there isn’t ever a ‘The Second.’ The second one is Junior, and the one after that is the third.”

“Good to know. By the way, now that we’ve been ‘gabbing’ for a while, may I ask why you’re standing out here in the cold across from the hippest coffeeshop in Bowling Green?”

“Yes, you may.”

“May what?”

“Ask. You asked if you could ask, and I said you could.”

“Right. Okay. Here it goes: why are you standing in the cold across the street from The Brewster?”

“Good question. As you may have surmised when I asked if your name is Sophia, I was planning to meet a young woman by that name on this very spot about twenty minutes ago. So far, she has yet to arrive but hope springs eternal.”

“Or you’ve been stood up.”

“Well, any intelligent man might have come to that conclusion by now, but as an insanely optimistic person, I’m still holding out hope.”

“I think the rule clearly states that twenty minutes late is being stood up.”

“There is an actual rule?”

“Practically speaking, yes. It’s like when a guy says he’ll call, three days is the limit. If he hasn’t called in three days, he’s either not going to call, or you are, the last possible option on his list.”

“Wow. It sounds like you have some wounds.”

“Just flesh wounds. Or, maybe there’s a better term than that.”

“I’ll bet there is. When I say I’m going to call a girl I always do it. My mistake is that I usually call about a half-hour later. Apparently, that makes me seem ‘needy’ or ‘a psycho.’”

“Sticks and stones, my friend. Sticks and stones.”

“I really thought Sophie would be here. I met her at a party, and she seemed interested in getting to know me. On the other hand, I think she was pretty drunk.”

“Girls can have beer goggles too.”

“I never thought of that. Or – and this is what I’m going to go with – she was too drunk to remember we were going to get together tonight.”

“I’ll bet that is exactly what happened. Right now, she’s probably sitting at home with the odd feeling that she is supposed to be somewhere having coffee with a guy named Snickers.”

“Clark.”

“Oh, that’s right. Wrong candy bar. Anyway, my guess is that she has given up drinking and feels a real sense of loss for the great guy who slipped away due to her drunken amnesia.”

“Wow. That’s pretty good, Gabby. Is it okay with you if I internalize what you just said and make it part of my life’s history?”

“Sure. No charge.”

“Thanks. By the way, I told you why I’m here, shivering. How about you?”

“Me? Oh, I’m a coffee shop hooker. I hang around coffee shops waiting to comfort the stood up and the over caffeinated.”

“You made that up.”

“Boy. Try to pull something over on you? I don’t think so. The truth is that I was going to go into The Brewster to meet my boyfriend. I got here early, and as I looked in the window, I saw him sitting very close to a woman he works with. Somehow – and I can’t explain this – their lips seem to have become attached for a moment. She got up to leave – making room at the table for me, I imagine. I suspected for a while that something besides work was going on between them, but he denied it. The big jerk face.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too. I thought he loved me.”

“He probably did and still does. Just not as much as he loves himself.”

“Mr. Clark, Junior, that was way more wise than I expected. Look, as long as you’re on a roll, I need some more wisdom. Before you showed up, I was thinking that I’d go into The Brewster, throw hot coffee in his lap, and punch him in the nose. Any thoughts?”

“If I were your attorney I’d have to advise against it. But I think we’re actually friends now, so as your friend, if you’d like I’ll go do it for you.”

“Would you?”

“Well, you’ll have to point out who he is, but yes. You seem like a very nice person and he ‘done you wrong.’”

“He dood. I mean he did done me. Dang!”

“Maybe, though, the best thing is to let him sit there waiting in vain for you to arrive. In the meantime, you can go on with your life without him.”

“Really?”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“Well, we live together, and we’ve been, you know, doing those things, and we talked about getting married…”

“You talked about getting married and he smiled and nodded.”

“How did you know?”

“It’s a guy thing. Gabby, this last twenty minutes has been about the nicest twenty minutes I’ve had all year. And it’s December. I really would like to be your friend and get to know you. If you want, I’ll go with you to collect the things you’ll need, and you can stay at my place for a while. I can stay with my friend to give you some space.”

“That’s really nice. But, what if he’s sorry?”

“Sorry for getting caught isn’t the same as sorry.”

“I know. I guess I’m not quite ready to give up on him.”

“I guess it’s a tiny bit like me giving up on Sophie.”

“Maybe. Here’s my last question: Are you a guardian angel sent to help me tonight?”

“I don’t know. I believe we are all guardian angels at our core. Sometimes we’re put in situations where we can help someone, and if we’re open to our inner angel we help.”

“You, Mr. Clark Junior, are a very interesting man. And yes, I would like to get to know you better.”