Countdown to a 8 o'clock Appointment

         It was five minutes to eight. Luis checked his watch again, only seven seconds had passed by, there still were three hundred fifty three left till show time. He fiddled with the chipped mug on the worn Formica counter before him and smoothed out a crumpled packet of artificial sweetener. He allowed himself a distracted sip of the tepid brew before indulging in yet another compulsive consultation of his wristwatch. The prognosis was not very promising- three hundred forty seven seconds were still standing between him and eight o’clock.

         Luis glared at the obstinate round face which only ticked all the more slowly as if out of spite. His bloodshot eyes scanned the busy room in search of a speedy distraction. There were waitresses taking orders, seniors serenely reviewing the breakfast specials and busboys carelessly thumping semi-unbreakable dishes into tubs. Before his tired eyes their movements slowed to a near stop as if they were all swimming through molasses. As if frozen in amber the bustle came to a screeching halt. Time hung suspended by a thread and the loud background hum faded to a distant murmur that threatened to disappear all together. Luis opened and shut his eyes in disbelief. With every blink the still life scene changed almost imperceptibly. Then like a cartoon flip book, the pictures reanimated and preformed their due tasks in a steady fashion.

         Luis succumbed anew and checked- two hundred ninety nine left. An altercation to his left caught his attention. A young couple in a corner was arguing in tones loud enough to alert the room that there was trouble in paradise.

         “How could you? Right in front of me!” The woman squawked, tossing back her long black hair like an extravagant feather boa.

         “I only asked for the…” The man started to protest.

         “Why don’t you ask the waitress for her number while you are at it?” She interrupted.

         “All I wanted was some breakfast.” He snapped.

         “All you wanted was some breakfast!” Her voice raised an octave with each word and she leaped to her feet in her passion. “What about me, John? What about my needs, my wants.” She said emotionally, her eyes brimming with theatrical tears.

         The argument escalated with furious shouts of lies and betrayal that could be overheard in at least three of the four nearby counties. The intensity rose to a feverish pitch that even the jaded regulars almost believed that this time John’s wayward ways and Marsha’s flair for the dramatic would actually end in bloodshed. The waitress had accidentally left the silverware on the table which added a thrilling edge to Marsha’s sweeping hand gestures. To the sadists’ disappointment it ended like it always did- she bought his excuses and blind love conquered all. There was scattered applause from the hopelessly romantic as the patrons in their immediate vicinity inched away as if the raving insanity was contagious. A few got up and left, appetites gone.

         Luis turned to face forward again after the amorous couple vacated the premises already knee deep in another argument. He swirled his cold coffee with a rusty spoon and pushed it away with a sigh. One of the usual waitresses wordlessly refilled his cup and pushed it back towards him. He added exactly three and a half sugar packets and one of saccharine, stirred it twice clockwise and thrice counterclockwise before taking one short sip and two longer draughts which scalded his already burnt tongue. Luis held the mug tightly between both hands and let the fumes of cheap coffee warm his face. The smooth dark surface of the liquid was disturbed by the trembling of his hands. Luis checked the time- ninety eight seconds.

         Luis looked up with a sigh. It was Tuesday. Although in its nature it lacked the intrinsic evil of Mondays, it came close. Too close. After checking the time once more he decided that he hated Tuesdays as well. Damn Tuesday. Damn watch, only sixty more seconds. That last minute was always the longest. Only forty-five seconds left. Now thirty. Twenty. Ten. Five, four, three, two…

         She floated into the room enveloped in the harsh halo of the winter sun. She strolled to her usual seat, the far corner in Luis’s direct line of vision. She slid into her seat and released her long dark curls from the confines of her bright knit hat in one fluid motion. She plucked up the menu, not to read, but make sure that her favorites were still in their place.

         Luis watched this familiar routine with unblinking eyes. Luis knew every move, every smile, and every nuance. It was always the same. He felt his heart settle and grow warm in his chest. He gagged on his coffee. There was something different. The sparkle on her ring finger competed with the one in her eye. All the waitresses and busboys paused to congratulate her, their most beautiful customer. Luis watched her order from the Novel Delights section of the menu and admire her engagement ring as she waited for the food to arrive. She downed her unaccustomed fare in record time and walked to the register with an extra bounce in her step and a swing in her hips.

         Luis watched her walk away as he had a thousand times. This time was distinctive from before. The old sense of yearning was replaced by a suffocating sense of urgency. He popped up with his paper to-go cup shaking precariously in his grip and took the first few steps to the object of his idolatry.

         Face to face with her all systems inside Luis shut down. He opened and shut is mouth in an attempt to give words to the volcano of emotions rumbling in him. All that came out was a dry rasping wheeze. He tried again but the words remained stuck in his throat. The songs and sonnets that his heart sung crumbled to ash by the intensity of the feeling. Finally one word broke free and rolled off his tongue like a prayer.

         “Please.” He croaked, extending his arms and love towards her.
She recoiled, stunned by the unexpected admission. Her sweet face creased with concern as Luis’s sad brown eyes took a glossy sheen. She rummaged in her pocket with the same thoughtful look.

         “Here you go.” She said as she poured a handful of loose change into Luis’s half empty coffee cup. With that she turned and walked away never glancing back at the ruin of a man behind her. Her cell phone rang when she was about half way down the block to her bus stop. She paused in the middle of the busy sidewalk to fish out the phone from the clutter. Her face lit up when she saw it was her fiancée. Her clear voice drifted back to Luis on the morning wind.

         “Darling, I was just thinking about you! You won’t believe what happened to me after breakfast. Remember that poor homeless man from the diner? He stopped me on my way out the door and he was just so pathetic I gave him all the change I had on me.”