Remy the Coffee Guy

I’ve never been one for local gossip, but even I couldn’t resist this morning’s commotion. As I entered the neighborhood coffee shop, I heard murmurs and hushed whispers all around me. I knew it wasn’t because of anything I had done, because no one took any notice of my arrival.

Ordering my regular coffee, I paid for it and was waiting in line when I noticed that almost everyone that I saw earlier was leaving. ‘Strange,’ I thought to myself. But boy, if I though that was strange, I don’t think there would be any words to describe as to why they were all gossiping and acting so bizarre. When I got my order and looked around, I saw two-teenage girls with their heads close together and whispering, like everyone else was doing that odd Tuesday morning. Now, I knew gossiping was addictive but I’m pretty sure being so fixated with it could only be a bad thing.

My curiosity got the best of me so I walked over to them and casually sat down. I knew one of these girls; I’d babysat her once. I think her name was Riley. The girls straightened up a bit and Riley said, “Hey there, Kelly.” I nodded in reply and was all business when I asked, “What’s got everyone so riled up today?”

“You mean, you don’t know?” the other girl whisper-shouted. Then she remembered her manners and said, “Hi, I’m Meredith.”

“Hey, I’m Kelly. No, I don’t think I do, what’s going on?” I replied. Both the girls visibly relaxed and I could see them get back into their comfort zone of inevitable gossip. They both leaned in, and by the look on their faces; I could see they expected me to do the same. I complied, and Riley began, “Sometime last month, a model moved into the neighborhood. About a week after she settled in, she started coming in here everyday.”

I nodded to show I was listening intently, though I was only half paying attention because I was wondering what it had to do with all the gossip today, since she settled in about a month ago.

“And remember that middle aged barista that worked here? I think his name was Ron or was it Remy?” Meredith cut in. “No, I remember, it was definitely Remy,” she continued.

Riley gave a derisive snort and said, “His parents should have named him ‘Rapist’ instead. That suits him far better.” They shared a chuckle over that and I was a bit confused, to say the least. They saw the bewildered look on my face and in excited whispers they continued, “Word on the street is that Remy dude totally spiked her drink yesterday.”

I was just about to take my first sip when they told me that. So my hand jerked to a stop and I politely pushed the coffee as far away from me as I could. They shared another chuckle before leaning in closer. “That’s not all though! A couple of minutes later she complained to one of those ladies she was talking with, that she was feeling dizzy and she should be heading back home. So a couple minutes later, ‘Remy the Rapist’ clocked out and hastily got out of here.”

Well then people were merely speculating. How would they know if Remy actually followed her home or that he spiked her drink?

Obviously my expressions were enough to convey the question because Meredith answered, “Later in the evening, Mrs. Haversham said that she heard screams from the next room and after a while, she heard loud sobs. So, being the nosy neighbor she is, she went over with the excuse that she wanted to ‘comfort’ her and the actual intention to extract new gossip material.”

“And by nightfall, the news had spread like wildfire. ‘Remy the Rapist’ did you-know-what to the model.”

“Wow,” that was all I could say. I knew alleys, and late-night- outings weren’t safe for the female population, but now we couldn’t even have our morning coffee without having to face problems? That’s a new low, even for rapists.