Max's+Novella

Clint woke up to the feeling that the front of his shirt stuck was stuck to his chest. He looked down.

“Really Leo? Again? Keep this up and you’ll be sleeping on the floor.”

Clint pushed Leo aside, and rolled out of bed, onto the rug. He lay there for a while, Leo patiently standing over him.

“Alright alright, I’m going, I’m going.”

Clint pulled off his drool soaked shirt and threw it over Leo's head. He pulled on the nearest pair of shorts, and found a shirt peeking out from under his bed. After he splashed some water on his face he stepped out the door of his tiny apartment with Leo close behind. Clint had purchased the apartment a little over a year ago, after college. It was on the edge of Linden, a city of about 800,000 people. Clint grew up and went to college on the other side of the country, he had bought the apartment in a spur of the moment purchase when he was visiting some relatives in Linden. He didn't have to pay for much, but he'd been making a little money from a blog he'd been writing at night. He started it for fun, and didn't write about anything in particular, but people seemed to like it, and advertising made a couple bucks. Since his Linden relatives moved, he'd engaged in little to no human contact, but it didn't really bother him, writing on his blog was a sort of substitute. It was like talking to people, they listened to him, only he didn't necessarily have to listen in return. Sometimes he'd engage in a nice conversation, when somebody's comment really piqued his interest, but it didn't happen all that often.

Clint and Leo walked down four flights of rickety stairs to the floor of their small apartment building, ignoring the doorman’s disproving looks, as Leo contentedly trotted alongside Clint’s slow haggard steps. Leo stopped to nudge a bag of chip crumbs once they were out of the shadow of the building, bounding a few steps to catch back up to Clint.

“Where we headed today kiddo? I’m not feeling like much of walk today.”

They took the usual route into the center of the city, watching front lawns turn to parking lots and trees turn to streetlamps. Leo’s tail started to wag as they made their way farther into the city, and his breaths quickened. He broke into a run, as Clint sighed loudly.

“Ay! Calm down bud, you’ll have plenty of time to run later.”

Leo looked over his shoulder and waited for Clint to catch up. Up a little ways ahead was Blossom Park, the largest greenery around, almost in the center of the city. Leo broke into a jog again, this time stopping under a large tree.

“Aright this is fine, I’ll see you later Leo.”

Clint collapsed into the grass, rolled over a few times, and then stopped. Leo broke into a full sprint, and headed off in the direction of the huge buildings towering over the expanse of Blossom Park. Clint briefly lifted his head up to watch his best friend leave, and closed his eyes.

The sun was shining brightly over Blossom Park, but Clint was sleeping under the shade of the tree. He awoke now and then, scanned the grassy expanse around him, and dozed off again. After some time, it seemed his body had enough rest, and his mind began to wander, as it often did after his naps. He thought about all sorts of things, sometimes trivial sometimes heavy. Clint frequently used his thoughts from this time on his blog, when he sat down to write at night. Right now he was thinking about food, he was getting quite hungry. Clint decided that if Leo came back while he was gone he would just have to wait. It wasn't often that Clint went somewhere without Leo, even just for a few minutes. He felt like something was just a little off as he walked toward the nearest coffee shop, as if somebody secretly poured skim milk instead of two percent into the bowl of cereal he had each night while he wrote. As he entered the shop and moved to the back of the line, it occurred to Clint that every other person in front of him had a life just as detailed as his own, full of intricacies that he would never know anything about.

Leo was lying down under the tree when Clint returned.

"Let's go kiddo, I got you some a little something."

Leo eagerly snapped up the bacon Clint pulled out of his sandwich, and the two of them headed off in no particular direction, walking at a very leisurely pace. They meandered through the city, never straying far from one another save for when Leo chased a squirrel or something. As they turned onto a street they had never come across before, Leo crossed the street, and suddenly began walking as if he had somewhere to be.

As he followed Leo down the small city side street, Clint, taken a little by surprise, said, “Headed somewhere in particular stud?”

Leo responded only by continuing his purposeful walk, taking a sharp left down an even smaller street. The street was not shady or dark, on the contrary, it received quite a bit of light, and there were a number of pleasant flowerbeds and trees along the street. Leo and Clint were the only ones on the street.

“I think I smell what you’re after Leo, I’m not sure what it is, but I can see why its got you all in a tizzy.”

Clint followed Leo a ways farther down the street, as the intensity of the delightful smell increased. Finally, Leo stopped, and turned towards a tented awning just above street level. It simply read, “Pancakes.” At this point, the smell was overwhelming.

“So, you’re still hungry, eh? After you.”

Leo lead the way down a short flight of stairs leading into the small diner, and waited for Clint to open the door. It was about 11:30 as Clint pushed it open, and a few bells jingled tiredly. The place was rather small, but chairs and tables were jammed everywhere. There were only two or three customers, but by the looks of the blueberries and syrup strewn all over the tables and floor, the place had been full not long ago. Clint usually didn’t sit down to eat anywhere that he couldn’t bring Leo, he always kept an eye out for outdoor tables. They were good for people watching too. However, for some reason he wasn’t so concerned about Leo being asked to leave, there was a friendly and relaxed aura about the place. Leo strode in between tables to the open counter in front of the kitchen, as if he were going to order something. Clint hesitated for a second, and then knocked on the red counter. A man of above average stature seemed to glide out from some nook in the small kitchen. He had dark black hair, and beads of sweat rolled down his forehead. He was wearing a white apron that had turned to a blotchy beige color, no doubt from countless grease stains and spills. When he spoke, his smile was wide and friendly, and his voice was deep.

“Good afternoon! How can I help you this fine morning?”

Clint replied, “I guess I’m here for some pancakes, it smelled awful good all the way down the road.”

The chef’s smile grew wider. “Well, my name is Landon, and my job is to make you good pancakes. What sort would you like?”

“I’ll take whatever, I don’t have anything specific in mind.”

“I’ll whip something up. Does your little friend want anything to eat?”

Clint looked down at Leo standing patiently beside him. “Sure he does, he deserves it.”

Landon nodded and withdrew back into the kitchen. The stove was close behind the counter, he needn’t go far. Clint took a few steps toward an open table. Then he stopped, turned on his heel and went back to the counter.

Clint paused for a moment and then said, “So all you make is pancakes huh?”

Landon turned to face Clint as he began mixing the batter. “I guess I can make all sorts of food, but I can’t remember the last time somebody came in here and ordered anything else. And I love pancakes. Each one is its own work of art. I hand craft every pancake that goes across this counter.” Landon chuckled at himself. “Sounds kinda stupid, but its true. Pancakes are my passion.”

Clint quickly replied, “I wish I had some sort of passion, I can’t say I have one of my own.”

Landon checked the temperature of the griddle, “I’m sure there are lots of things that you’re passionate about, you just don’t devote all of your time to them. And that might be a good thing or a bad thing. Some day I might get bored of making pancakes nonstop from seven until noon every day. But until then, I’ll keep making people pancakes because I love it. What sort of things are you into?”

“I just told you, I don’t have any passions or anything,” Clint said a little sheepishly.

“Now that’s just not true. What do you do for a living?”

Clint looked sheepish again. “Well, I guess I’m kind in between jobs…but then again I’m not looking for a new job.” He paused. “I have this little blog thing that I write, and it makes me a little money. I guess that’s my job.”

“And you were trying to tell me you don’t get excited about nothing. I’m assuming that you like writing on this thing, you didn’t start it for the money.”

“Yea, I guess. I still don’t think of it as my job. And yea, I do enjoy writing it.”

“And that’s the way it should be, I don’t think of making pancakes as my job either.”

“But you’re like enterprising. You got your own restaurant. You see all your customers face to face. You’ve got a little adventure going you know? I have a measly webpage, just like billions of other people do. And who reads it? I don’t know. I don’t write about nothing anybody else couldn’t. Just the shit I see every day.” Clint went on, “You know, this makes me wanna do something else. I have no idea what, but something with a little spice or something. Relaxing with my pooch all day is great, but I want something. I just do whatever I please. I want to fix problems, overcome challenges. Not just walk around all the time not worrying about anything.”

“Whoaa easy bro. A lot of people would give anything to be able to relax all day without a care in the world. Here, sit down and eat your pancakes while you think about what you just said.” Landon passed the pancakes over the counter with butter, syrup, and a carefully folded napkin.

Clint was suddenly aware of what he had just said. He looked at the ground, grabbed the two plates and sat down. He couldn’t decide if how he felt about the words that had spilled out of his mouth. He took half the piping hot pancakes and passed them to Leo.

“How are they?” Landon shouted from the kitchen.

Clint quickly splashed some syrup over his pancakes, cut off a big hunk and threw it in his mouth.

“So?” Landon called again.

Clint swallowed hurriedly and replied, “They’re fantastic, I’ve never had anything so fluffy.”

“Good that’s just what I like to hear.”

Clint took the next bite much slower; he hadn’t really tasted that first bite. He confirmed what he thought he had tasted on the first bite. The pancakes really were amazing. The best he’d ever had. No reason to add bacon and eggs to his plate. He looked down at Leo, he had somehow finished his already.

Clint voiced his thoughts to the chef. “I’m not kidding, these are amazing. Easily the best pancakes I’ve ever had.

“One sec, lemme shut of this stuff back here.” Landon clambered over the counter with a dripping rag, and began wiping tables. “So you really think your life is that boring huh? Sounds to me like you had a passion for relaxing, and that passion just got old. There’s nothing wrong with that. You just might need to take your life in a different direction right now. But hey, I’m not life guru, just a guy who really likes pancakes. And judging by your plate, so are you.” Landon smiled easily, “I say you keep doing what you’re doing, and take whatever opportunities come along. Don’t go looking to change things, cause you have things pretty good. You’ll know the time for change when it comes.

Clint swallowed his last bite of pancake. “You’re right man, I do have it pretty good. But it’s all relative. Anybody can get bored with his lifestyle. I’m sure there are days that Oprah wishes she was doing something else besides taking over the world. I guess I’ll just keep goin with the flow, and hope it takes me over a waterfall or rapids or something.

Landon and Clint both laughed at the joke. Even Leo seemed to smile. Clint pulled out some cash from his back pocket. The rest of the customers had long since left the store.

Landon pushed the money away and said, “No way, I’m not taking it. You paid your way in conversation. Anytime you want some pancakes or a talk, come on by.”

“Thanks I really appreciate it.” Clint replied.

“Oh no problem.”

“Here’s my blog address. I’ll let you know how things go.” Clint said, as he got up and pushed in his chair.

“Great, I’ll see you later.” It sounded to Clint like he really meant it.

Clint walked out of Landon’s restaurant feeling satisfied. Not only had the fantastic pancakes filled him up, but it also felt nice to have some face-to-face human interaction. Despite this, Clint was feeling a little unsettled. He decided would just keep drifting and look for that waterfall, just like he’d told Landon. They had spent over two hours inside with Landon and his pancakes, but it was still only a little after three o’clock.

“Thanks for taking me over there Leo, I had a good time. It was nice being able to talk to someone besides you.”

Clint bent down to give Leo a good scratch behind the ears as they continued walking towards home.

“You get some time in the morning to go hang with your doggy friends, I could use some more people time too.”

The rest of the way home, Clint couldn’t stop noticing every person who they passed, and trying to guess what they might be doing. He had forgotten what understanding a tiny piece of someone else’s life was like, and he was craving for more. He made up little life stories for each person they passed, imagining how one woman was bringing home her groceries to an ill spouse, that group of guys were out for drink after not seeing each other since high school, and that man was just walking, trying to pass the time and ease his loneliness. Clint wondered if other people had ever tried to hypothesize what his little life story was like. What did they come up with?

Leo and Clint arrived back at the apartment slightly past four o’clock, and Clint collapsed into bed. Leo did the same, hopping up to join him. Clint slept soundly, as usual, and awoke a few hours later. He lurched over to the couch and opened up his laptop, without bothering to turn on the lights. Leo rolled over and stretched out onto Clint’s warm pillow, pleased by the space Clint vacated on the bed. Clint pulled up his blog, and began to write.


 * __The Barking Blog__**

**Thursday, June 12**

During our walk today, I was thinking about people. People that I passed, people that I’ll never meet. Most likely, I’ll never know a thing about these people, let alone what they’re thinking. I will only ever get to know my own life inside and out, and if I’m lucky, some slivers of others lives. Even if I get married someday, I will never really fully understand what my spouse would be feeling and thinking, I’ll just understand a larger than normal sliver of her life. Today, I was feeling curious. What are all those people like? Why are they doing what they’re doing right now? What were they thinking about yesterday before they went to bed? It’s sad to think about how little I really know about anybody else, and how little they know about me. I guess that’s a little what this blog is about, me sharing a sliver of my life and thoughts with however many of you actually read this.

When Clint was satisfied with what he had written, he closed the laptop and went to get something to eat. The entry was a little heavier than what he usually wrote, but he thought it might warrant some interesting responses. He found some cold chicken parmesan in the fridge, and plopped back down on the couch to eat it. Smelling it from his comfortable spot on Clint’s pillow, Leo hopped down from the bed for a snack of his own. Clint turned on the T.V., and started watching some special on Booker T. Washington. Leo quickly fell back asleep, he wasn’t really one for history. When it was over, Clint crept away from the couch, trying hard not to wake Leo up, so he could have the bed to himself for a few hours.

Clint woke up to Leo breathing into his face at the side of the bed. Soon, they left the apartment to go for their walk. When they returned towards the evening, Clint sat down on the couch and opened up his computer. He was gearing up to write a short summary of his day, and share a pecan pie recipe that he’d stumbled across a few weeks ago. Clint woke up to Leo breathing into his face at the side of the bed. Soon, they left the apartment to go for their walk. When they returned towards the evening, Clint sat down on the couch and opened up his computer. He was gearing up to write a short summary of his day, and share a pecan pie recipe that he’d stumbled across a few weeks ago. When When the page loaded, Clint was stunned. There were more responses to yesterday’s post than he’d received for all his other entries combined.

“I didn’t even know this many people read my thing!” Clint exclaimed to Leo.

Clint started to read through the responses.

In response to **Thursday, June 12:**

I live by myself in a small New York apartment. Just now, I ate breakfast. I had four poptarts. They were the strawberry kind. After breakfast I got dressed in my work uniform. I’m a security guard at a local museum. Even though my shift doesn’t start until eight, and the museum is just around the corner, I like to wake up at five. This way, I have as much time as I want to do all the little things in the morning. I can spend 30 minutes watching the sunrise, or spend an hour making my self an extra special breakfast. The morning is me time, it relaxes me before I really have to start my day. Today, before I left work, I read your blog, wrote this reply, and played four games of chess against the computer. Plus, I counted the approximate number of bites it takes to finish a pop tart. Depending on your mouth size, its about eleven, in case you were wondering.

Entry written by user **sparkplug226**

In response to **Thursday, June 12:**

I had trouble falling asleep last night; I was busy thinking. I always have to mentally switch of my brain before I go to sleep. Otherwise, I spend the whole night thinking. Unless, of course, I’m so tired that my brain switched itself off, without even asking my permission. But anyway, last night was one of those nights that I didn’t switch my brain of for an hour or so. I was thinking about how when I was little, going to sleep was the worst. I had no control over what popped into my head, and at night, in bed, the worst things always invaded my thoughts. I thought about people robbing my house, coming to get me. I thought about monsters coming to eat all of my favorite stuffed animals. I thought about my parents getting up and leaving, and never coming back. It always took a long time for me to fall asleep. These days, I still think about that stuff, only I have more control over my thoughts. Every time I think about my house catching fire during the night, I can tell myself that such things are highly unlikely, push the thoughts away, and go to sleep. I think as you grow older, not only do you gain more control over your body, actions and words, you gain more control over your thoughts too. Anyway, thanks for your entry, it really made me think. I figured I owe it to you to give you a little slice of my thoughts, since you do it everyday. In fact, maybe I’ll start my own blog.

Entry written by user **Beef_sister**

The entries went on. Clint was amazed by all the people sharing their thoughts and little tidbits of their lives. Many of the entries thanked him for writing his blog, and echoed his sentiments about not knowing enough about others. Some of the responses made him laugh, some made him think, and some were just absurd. Just when he was nearly finished reading every single reply, a new one was posted. For some reason he was captivated by it.

In response to **Thursday, June 12:**

First of all, I really enjoyed your entry. It made me think. And think some more. I figured I’d go along with everyone else, and give a little sliver of my life. Today, I took a day off from work, just because I wanted to. No particular reason. I slept in until ten, which really isn’t very late for me, on weekends I’ve been known to sleep until 2. Then, I went for a walk. In my pajamas. I was very comfortable, and not in the mood to change. I walked around a little bit, just drinking in the city environment at 1030 in the morning, a time when I never get to see it. I wondered into a little coffee shop I had never heard of, and tried some weird pastry I had never heard. It was good. I got some weird looks for wearing my pajamas, but you know, who’s to say I can’t wear my pjs in public. I stayed in that coffee shop for a good while, it had a good view out the window. I left the shop, and noticed on my way out it was called Todd’s Café. I think I’ll go there again, it was a friendly place. I walked around some more, a lot more. I got back home and went to sleep at like 6. Something about that day was fantastic, I don’t know what. I don’t recall feeling especially excited, or even relaxed at any point. It must have just been doing nothing that was so exhilarating. I’d like to take a day off at some point and do everything exhilarating. Everything. Anyway, like I said, I really enjoyed your entry. But I have to disagree with one thing. When you get married to someone, someone that you’re really in love with, you get more than a slightly larger sliver of their life. You get the whole thing. That’s what’s so special about love. That’s also what makes it so difficult. Sharing somebody else’s entire life isn’t easy. It’s double the problems, double the conflict, double the sadness. But its also double the solutions, double the success, double the happiness, and a million times the love.

Entry written by user **LittleLadybug57**

Clint read the whole thing. And then he read it again. And again. He felt so connected to this person, and he had no idea why. Clint printed **LittleLadybug57** ’s entry out, closed his computer, and continued reading and rereading her entry. It wasn’t so much that her day off was eerily similar to all of his days, it the whole little sliver of her life and thoughts. It was just perfect. And he hoped she was right about him being wrong. He wanted it to be true that love was complete sharing of another’s life, not just knowing a larger than usual sliver of it. Clint fell asleep with her entry clutched in his hand, Leo sharing half of the bed.

When Clint awoke the next morning he read the entry again. Nothing had changed, he still felt he had to act on this connection he felt, he had to know more. For once, Clint shook Leo awake, and the pair headed out of the apartment a good deal earlier than usual. As they passed the always disapproving doorman, Clint stopped short and doubled back.

“Excuse me, do you happen to know where Todd’s Café is?”

The doorman was a little taken aback by this sudden question, but he quickly gathered himself and responded. “No sir, I’ve never heard of such a place.”

“Thanks.” Clint turned on his heel and left with Leo. As they passed another person, Clint didn’t hesitate this time.

“Excuse me, do you happen to know where Todd’s Café is?”

“No I’m sorry,” was the reply Clint received.

This proved to be a pattern. Clint stopped almost every person they passed to ask about the café. Nobody had even heard of the place. After much questioning, they finally made it to a nice park, and Leo went off for his time alone. Instead of taking his usual nap, Clint wandered around the park continuing to look for somebody who knew something about this café. It occurred to him at some point that the place might not be real. LittleLadybug57 could have made the whole thing up. Todd’s café, the whole sliver of her life that she described could be false. But it couldn’t be. Something like that couldn’t be made up, it just had to be true. Still, Clint couldn’t even get confirmation that the place existed.

When Leo came back to the park, it hit Clint that he was being rather stupid. He could just google the place, find out that it really did exist, and find out where it was located. It was a long walk back to their house, and Clint was not feeling patient. They left the park, and after stopping for a quick breakfast sandwich at a chain coffee place, Clint found an internet café. He wondered what sorts of people used these kind of places, he had never been inside one before. Maybe be all those people who aren’t patient enough to go home to use their Internet. He chuckled at his own thoughts. Clint forked over the small fee to the clerk and sat down at one of the computer booths. Leo waited outside. Clint almost never left Leo tied up outside, but this was a special case. Clint’s hands were almost shaking as he typed “Todd’s Café” into the search box. Clint smiled when he saw so many entries for “Todd’s Café,” but his heart dropped when none of them were located in Linden. He hastily clicked through a couple more pages of results, to no avail. Crestfallen, Clint realized he was being irrational again. He went back to the search box, and added Linden to his search query. Holding his breath, Clint hit the enter key. He nearly yelped out loud when he saw what he was looking for. There was a review for a Todd’s Café in Linden. Better yet, there was an address. 214 Perry Street. The only problem was that Clint had never heard of the street.

“Don’t be silly again,” Clint mumbled to himself. “Just google that too.”

Clint became even more enthused as he looked at a picture of the place in google maps, and printed out directions. He nearly knocked his chair over getting up to pay for his print out, and happily shook the directions at Leo as he untied him.

“We’re headed to another café Leo, come on kiddo.”

The directions said that the total walking time would be over an hour, but at Leo and Clint’s speed, it would take much less than that. Leo caught on to Clint’s excitement, and they cruised down blocks and across streets. Finally, they came to Perry Street. They were almost running at this point, until Clint spotted a faded red awning that read “Todd’s Café.”

“Wait wait wait wait Leo!! Stop! What if she’s in there, we don’t want to be sprinting into the place. Let’s take a sec to catch our breath before we get any closer.”

Clint fixed his hair in car window, and slowly began to breath normally again.

“ Okay, let’s go, I’m ready now”

Clint was feeling quite nervous as he passed under the awning, and reached for the handle. He pulled. And he pulled again. It was locked. Clint put his face against the glass and peered through. All was dark. Closed. Todd’s Café was closed. Clint looked to his left, and saw the hours printed on the window: Monday through Friday 6-1, Saturday and Sunday from 8 to 3. It was only 1:30, the place had just closed.

“Come on Leo, let’s go,” Clint said dejectedly. “We’ll come back tomorrow.”

It was a long, slow walk home, and they returned a little later than usual, even though they had left earlier than normal. Leo immediately fell asleep on the rug, and Clint quickly cooked some tortellini. As he climbed into bed, Clint pulled the now crumpled entry from his pocket and read it over and over until he fell asleep.

When they awoke the next morning, Clint and Leo immediately began the long walk to Todd’s Café. Clint brought his laptop along. They made it to the café at about 8:45. Clint took at deep breath as he grasped the handle and pulled the door under the red awning open. He was greeted by an unusual but pleasant smell for a coffee shop, and aroma more like that of a bakery than a Starbucks. Clint set his laptop down on a comfy looking chair near the window, only one other person was sitting down. He bought a pastry that he had never heard of before, and sat down. Leo was just outside the window, tied up again. Clint hadn’t wanted to get kicked out of the café for bring Leo in, so he had left him outside where they could see each other. However, after a short while, one of the café employees addressed Clint.

“That your beautiful dog out there?”

Clint proudly confirmed the man’s suspicions with a “yes.”

“Well you can bring him on in if you like, he doesn’t look like the type to cause trouble.”

“No, no he’s no rabble-rouser,” said Clint as he rose from his chair to go get Leo.

When they came back inside, Clint settled back into his comfortable chair, and opened his laptop. He began to write an entry.


 * __The Barking Blog__**

**Saturday, June 14**

Thank you all so much for your responses to my last post, I thoroughly enjoyed reading every one of them. I highly recommend that you take them time to read others posts, if you have not gotten the chance. It really is nice to take a little time to learn about some other’s thoughts and lives, especially people you would never no a thing about otherwise.

Clint considered acknowledging LittleLadybug’s comments about love and life slivers, but he decided against it, and continued writing.

Write now, (hehe!) I am sitting in a big purple chair in Todd’s Café, doing a little bit of people watching. I normally prefer outdoor tables for this sort of thing, but the weather isn’t so nice today, and this place has a great big window. I am guessing at what the people walking by are doing, and what they’re thinking. It is making me appreciate more and more your responses about that sort of thing. You guys could easily be one of these people, and I wouldn’t even know it, yet I also know a thing or to about you, because of that little sliver you posted. Anyway, I haven’t been doing this for long, but my plan is to keep guessing about every person, until one comes inside the café and sits down. Then, I’m going to put this computer down, and make some conversation with them, and see if my guess was anywhere near the mark. I’ll let you know how it goes.

Five minutes after Clint finished the post, somebody he guessed at walked in and stepped in line to get a coffee. Clint almost got up to talk to the man, but then decided he’d just hope that he would stick around for a while after he got his food. The man just took his drink and left, and Clint went back to the window. Not long after, a woman came in and actually sat down. Clint felt a little more unsure than he thought he would, and it took him a moment to gather his outgoingness and strike up a conversation. He took a deep breath.

“Hello!”

The woman looked up from her paper and coffee. “Hi,” she said with just enough energy and eye contact to be considered friendly.

“How are you?”

“I’m well thank you. And you?” She said as she looked back down at her newspaper.

This was going to be a little harder than Clint thought.

“I’m well as well.” Clint smiled. She didn’t notice. He realized how stupid his attempt at a joke was. It didn’t warrant a chuckle from anybody, let along a complete stranger. “I have a question for you.” Clint’s mind started racing, he didn’t have a question yet. “Where did you get those shoes?” he blurted out.

“Ummm… Tory Birch.” She looked up this time, right at him.

“Okay thanks I was just wondering.”

Clint decided this experiment was a failure, and opened up his laptop again.

“It’s too bad,” he thought. “It could’ve been a neat little test. However, my conversational skills seem to be lacking, and most people probably don’t go to these kind of places just to talk.”

He was just beginning to get his Internet browser started, when the woman rose with her half full coffee, and left. It looked like she was trying her hardest not to give Clint a dirty look on the way out.

Clint decided not to reveal how his experiment went on the blog, and instead just make somebody up.


 * Saturday, June 14**

Well, I finally managed to find out with if one of my guesses was correct, with mixed results. This woman walked by the café, wearing a long brown coat, a wedding ring, and a sorry look. She was gaunt with brown hair, an orange scarf, and three shopping bags. She almost walked by the café and then seemed to decide she deserved a quick coffee break. I predicted that she was walking the groceries home because her car was in the shop, and her husband worked long hours. She had a bum hip. So, when she came and plopped down next to me, I somehow managed to strike up a conversation, (something I just couldn’t seem to do, and the reason this was the one and only trial) and get the little sliver of her life I was looking for. Turns out I was wrong on almost every count. Her car was not in the shop, her husband was not at work, and her hip was fine. She did have a husband!! Oh, and her groceries were in fact presents for her employees at work, not groceries at all. However, I did learn the true sliver, not my made up one, and I cannot decide which one I like better. If you can do any better let me know J.

After the woman left, Clint stuck around for the remainder of the day, only getting up to go to the bathroom and let Leo in and out. He told the employees of the café that he was recording people watching data, which technically was the truth, but really, Clint knew he was waiting there in hopes that she would show up. He felt as though he would know for sure when she came, despite the fact he had not the slightest idea of what she looked like. She probably wouldn’t wear her pajamas again, but he could always hope. Clint desperately wanted to meet this girl, and he had no interest in reaching out to her online. He wanted to meet her here, in this café. Maybe it was unlikely, because she was probably working through the hours of the café, but you never know.

Clint returned to Todd’s Café with Leo for several consecutive days, each day waiting and hoping. During this time he thought about little else other than LittleLadybug. It occurred to him that she could be twelve, or eighty-five. It occurred to him that “she” could really be a he. But Clint knew. He knew it was a “she,” and she was right around his age. He just knew.

Then one day it happened. She actually came. It was maybe the fifth day Clint had spent at Todd’s Café, and he had come to the conclusion that she would not come. But she did.

However, things didn’t quite turn out as planned.

It was fairly early in the day when she came, about quarter past nine on a Thursday. Clint was in the same comfy chair. She first appeared in the window on the right, on the far side of the street. She looked both ways before crossing the street. She was beautiful. Tall with long, thick, dark hair, and blazing brown eyes Clint could see from across the street. Clint decided it was her as soon as she crossed the street. It had to be her. She walked with an aura of confidence that stood out against all the other pedestrians in Clint’s little window scene. She strode up to the entrance to Todd’s and crossed the threshold, stopping for just a moment to put her phone down so she could brush her hair back. She was almost close enough to touch. It seemed to Clint that she brought with her a strong and sweet breeze, that now rippled through the café.

Clint had pictured this moment many times in his head. LittleLadybug57 would enter Todd’s café, and he and she would immediately recognize each other, and hit off an amazing conversation.

She didn’t get right in line, instead she paused after entering, and looked around. Clint tried to look nonchalant, tried to make accidental eye contact. Her brown eyes went right over, him, without lingering. His heart fell. She turned and took a step for the door, then stopped, and looked over the whole room again. This time, she made just the slightest eye contact, so little nobody else could see it, but Todd could feel it. Her eyes had glued him to his chair. He didn’t move. She exited quickly, and Clint heard her emit a long sigh as the door closed behind her. He still did not move. His mind was blank. As she left his sight in the window, Clint sprung out of his chair, nearly knocking it over. Then he slowly sat back down.

“What am I supposed to do now?” he thought.

Clint rose again and grabbed his phone off the table. He had to go after her.

“I’ve been waiting this whole time just to let her go? No.”

He left his laptop open in the café, and Leo was away at the moment. He followed where he had seen her go, and looked down the street, looking for that shining mass of dark hair. It was nowhere to be found. Clint became frantic, and started jogging down the street. She said in her post that she didn’t live close and just stumbled upon the café. He didn’t understand how she could have disappeared so quickly. Then, he saw her leaning over into the window of a taxi. Clint broke into a hard jog, feet pounding on the pavement.

“LittleLadybug!!” He yelled. As he dodged pedestrians left and right, never losing sight of her, he had another realism moment.

“I’m going crazy. This woman doesn’t even know me and I’m sprinting down the street calling her blog username.” Clint began to fast walk instead. As he emerged from a large mass of people on the sidewalk, he saw that she was close. Right there.

“What am I going to say?” He thought. He tried to slow down, but he just sped up, it was as if he had lost control of his legs. She was within normal speaking distance.

Then, when he was even with the back of the taxi, and she was getting in, still taking no notice of him, he said, “Excuse me.” Nothing more. He opened his mouth to continue, but then, she spoke.

“Oh my god thank you! Thank you so so much. I don’t know how I managed to leave my phone in there, my mind was on other things, I really appreciate you bringing it all this way down the street.”

Clint was in shock. He looked down at his hands. There, in his right hand, was a Blackberry. He must have accidentally picked up her phone instead of his on his way out. What luck. He held it out to her.

“Oh no problem, I seem to misplace my phone all the time.” He smiled.