Are We the Waiting:Green Day Fanfic

The cafe’s brick exterior was covered with flyers; advertisements for upcoming gigs, available jobs, and political campaigns. My tired eyes scanned the colorful posters that were all fitted together neatly on the wall, focusing on one at a time was all I could do to keep myself from falling asleep. I yawned. I turned my back to the posters and leaned my weary body against the paper-covered wall. I couldn’t give a damn about the artistic details or indie bands right now, all I wanted was sleep. Or at least coffee.

It felt like an hour later, but in reality it must have only been minutes, when I was startled by something rubbing against my thigh. I opened my eyes and realized it was a big, black mutt with his nose against my leg. I followed the dog’s leash to its master, a woman standing feet away from me staring at the wall. Shorter than myself, a little curvy, and long black hair. She was attractive, but then I saw her face. She was beautiful.

"Twin, stop that," she scolded the mutt gently. Her dark brown eyes glanced up and caught mine, "Sorry," she apologized on behalf of her canine. She returned her attention to the flyers.

Black leather jacket, black skirt, and black boots; we slightly resembled each other. Twin, the dog, did not obey the woman and continued to press his muzzle into my thigh. I reached down to scratch his head between his ears.

"He’s fine, really. Nice dog," I assured. She looked over at me again and smiled. I watched her eyes scan me up and down, as if sizing me up. She shifted her eyes back towards the wall again.

"You’re not from around here-" she said, without looking at me.

I straightened back up, “How’d you know?”

She shrugged, then reached out her hand to pluck a strip of paper from one of the flyers for a cocktail waitress job at a bar called Mickey’s. She slipped the strip of paper into her black leather bag and finally turned towards me to answer.

"Well, your sweatshirt says Oakland, and not many people seem to willingly vacation in Oakland. So, that was kinda a dead giveaway."

I looked down dumbly at my sweatshirt, “Oh, yeah.”
She giggled and I looked up quickly to catch the sly smile on her face before she straightened her expression. She gave a weak tug on Twin’s leash and he left my side for hers.

"Well, have fun in Minnesota," she said. She turned and the mutt walked beside her as they easily made their way down the sidewalk. I watched her get farther and father from me, her black tresses shining in the sun. I was about to break away from the wall to go after her, to get her name or number or something, when I felt someone grab my arm. I turned swiftly to see Bill holding a cardboard coffee tray.

"Long ass line. Your’s is there in the corner," Bill said, pointing at the coffee cup in the corner closest to me.
I reached to get it and immediately opened the tab on the cap. Steam seeped out as well as the amazing aroma of fresh brewed coffee. I looked at Bill, then back to the direction the woman and her dog had gone in. There was just an empty sidewalk. Perhaps I had dreamt her; maybe I did fall asleep against the wall.

"Thanks," I said quietly to Bill, my eyes still searching for some sign of her existence. I suddenly remembered the paper strip she had pulled from an advertisement on the wall. I spun around and found the flyer for the cocktail waitress position at Mickey’s bar, one strip was missing. She was real. I ripped one of the strips from the flyer and held it in my palm.

Mickey’s, 35 W 7th Pl, St. Paul, MN 55101.