With the days growing shorter the blessed news arrives, Salted Caramel Hot Chocolates and Lattes are back at Starbucks.
I had saved all my gold stars and calories for this first arrival of venti dark liquid love.
I could use a little love and a little darkness.
After a day of brooding and taking care of my dogs, I decided to shower up, lipstick up and go to my local Starbucks for some of my favorite sin & people watching, while I pretend I dont feel awkward and alone while I watch my Twitter feed.
Why is it I feel so much more alive when the air gets that first chill. And I found a spot to park right in front of the old Presbyterian church. I stop and look into the candy shop window. Fudge it may not do a body good but it does a soul wonders... I resist though. I am on a mission, salted caramel be thy name.
I go in and there are a few people but none in my favorite corner,good. I can see the whole place from there and the street. It looks like it is getting foggy. I go up to the counter and place my order with glee. The Barista takes my card and says "you have 12 gold stars would you like you use your free food or drink item"? "Yes I would, I would like a Venti Salty Caramel Hot Chocolate, extra salt please.
The Barista smiles, "that is how I like mine too".
I move to the "waiting area" for my fine handcrafted beverage to be served.
With my right hand being warmed by my large cup I move to the corner.
Twitter turns out pretty interesting this evening, lots of cool pictures from David Shakes.
Some animal rights petitions to sign and a few funny jokes, then I feel a chill behind me.
Someone must have opened a door. I look around dont really see anyone and go back to my Twit feed.
"Excuse me, why do you come out in public to be alone"
"What" I say as I look up into a pale older gentleman's gray eyes.
"You come out to a public drinking and eating establishment and you fall into that
electronic book thing. You speak to no one, here in the present".
I am dumb struck.
"If you have something interesting to say to me I can close it up, for a while."
He smiles... pulls out a chair.
I can not believe this, I have come here a dozen times hoping to meet someone and the first male that talks to me is admonishing me for my laptop usage and is an old guy, well an older guy.
"When I was in Europe and I used to go to Tea or Coffee houses, it was as much for conversation with strangers as the strong brew".
Still stunned I ask, "what are you having tonight".
"The girl at the counter suggested I try the Salted Caramel Hot Chocolate, she says they are very popular and just back in stock".
"That is what I am drinking, they are my favorite, I like the salt and the sweet. I just wish they used more of a darker drinking chocolate like the Chantico they used to serve".
"You have had real drinking chocolate"?he asks.
"I am not a savage" I reply.
He smiles at this, and I am wondering are his eyes gray or blue.
"It is growing foggy out, I wonder why" I muse, still a little bit uncomfortable.
"I brought it in with me, I am afraid" he says and takes a sip of his small cup.
Looking for something to say, I ask "you went with the short" not many people know about that size".
He says, "I usually dont drink sweet things, but sometimes I like salty, I wanted to try it before I buy it, like they do with everything now a days"
I am normally pretty good with accents, but I cant tell where this guy is from.
I ask him. "So where do you come from and what brought you to our lovely old town"
"This town is not old, almost nothing in this country is, (sensing my possible offense at a perceived slight of my home, quickly adds) charming as it is."
"I come from an island off of France, we have a thousand year old monastery called Mont Saint-Michel" Beautiful and strong like the arch angel it is named after".
"My mother's family came from
Alsace-Lorraine, I hope to visit it someday"
"France has many charms, have you traveled outside of the country, young lady"?
"I am not so young, and my name is Elizabeth"
"Like The Great Queen"
"Exactly, my father was a history teacher and my mother an Anglophile. I have been there twice but only to London and Kent. I have also been to the mainland of Greece"
"So do you like traveling, Elizabeth"?
"Yes, very much so. I mean I am not a big fan of planes"
"Nor, I", he interrupts, "noisy, smelly confining things" but such a great deal faster then sailing ships, I am Frank by the way a derivative of Francis that suits more in these times".
Not sure what to say to that, I finger my necklace and I get back on topic
"Flying is cheaper, most of the time, and sometimes you have to fly to the boat anyway, still I would like to go on one of those riverboat cruises on the Rhine, you know the ones you see the commercials for on PBS"
"Now we get somewhere", and he slaps the table.
I start and look into his eyes, well they are blue, very blue"
"What do you mean"?
"I knew you had substance beyond your talking book"
I laugh, and say "hey I watch PBS on my talking book, I dont really have TV, I have health insurance for my dog".
"Health insurance for your dog", he arches his eyebrow, his forehead is remarkably unlined "and what kind of dog do you have?"
"Bella is a luv mutt of many dubious breeds best left unsaid and in all honesty I don't really know,she was abandoned at birth. I also have a Dachshund/Chihuahua mix that's breed is called a
Chiweenie, who is profoundly perfect."
"Does she have health insurance?"
I take a long drink of my now cooling hot coco, and with down cast eyes say "No", I can not afford to have them both covered and Bella, although mighty of size has always had more health issues. While Butter Cup has been a tiny might hero"
"I like how you bend the English language to your will" he says, now I am starting to wonder if it was his clothes that made me think he was so much older. He could be mid 50's not 60's....
"It is fun to twist and turn it to my purpose and you should here me bend it when I drive" I giggle.
" You are a force to be reckoned with, like The Great Queen, I suppose".
"When I need to be, I am a raging wolf"
He finishes his drink and I ask, "so what do you think", pointing to his now empty cup"
"It could use more salt, but I think I may acquire a taste for them" His clothes are really not that old in style, more classic and simple, in muted grays like the fog.
He asks if I would like another, I think I really should not, but I am enjoying talking to this man from Mont Saint-Michel.
"Yes, please but just a short, or I will have to roll to my car''.
"Nonsense, women are much to thin now a days, they lack all the tender curves women are supposed to have unless they buy them in plastic and padding".
"I wish more people thought like you"
"They do he says, men are just afraid now a days to be men, and stand up for what they like, they go along with what the talking box tells them too" and with that he gets up to get our drinks.
While he is at the counter, I pull out my mirror and start the damage control on my make-up. Why am I tweaking my make-up, but I go a head and do it anyway.
It is all zipped up and away before he arrives back at our table.
"The girl at the counter has informed me we only have a half hour until closing time"
I am surprised that time has gone so quickly, I strain looking out into the street to see the state of the fog and wonder how fun my drive home will be. When you pass that lake sometimes you cant see the edge of your own car.
I ask how long he is in town.
He smiles again and I notice there really are only slight lines by the corners of his mouth.
His lips are full but not too full and his teeth white and straight but not freaky perfect like veneers and bleaching to that neon white color you see so much.
"I am not sure how long business will keep me, maybe another day or two"
"What is it you do, if I may ask"?
He smiles at my phrasing " You may. I am sort of a food critic, I research places for small meetings and the entertainment near by"
I can't help but giggle.
" You are not a pimp, right"
He laughs deeply and says "not as such for those predilections, but for small places for people to talk and not be too secluded".
My turn to try to arch an eyebrow....
I realize I should visit the ladies room and grab my bag and say excuse me for moment.
When I go to get up I wobble, the world tilting.
He grabs my arm to steady me. His grip is strong.
"Wow I must have had too much sugar today and not enough protein"
"You women and your silly dieting, are your feet firm now"? He asks with genuine concern.
I really look at his face now, he has to be in his mid to late 40's....
"I am fine" I will be right back.
When I get to the ladies room I thank GOD, I did not fall over and look in to the mirror.
I am very pale, my only color being the one I applied. The Lupus must be really acting up from all the stress of the past 2 weeks. I should go home and go straight to bed.
With short steady steps I return to the table.
"Francis", I use his real name, I am afraid my day has gotten to me and I should leave now, I really dont want too, I want to hear about your travels, but when the body calls, sometimes you have pick up and not let it go to voice mail".
"Could I be so bold and suggest we meet here again tomorrow night"?
My heart flutters, why is my heart fluttering, I need to talk to my shrink.
I try to sound casual.
"Umm I think I can do that, 7ish OK"?
"Yes that would be fine, shall I walk you to your car"?
"No, I'm right across the street, you can see it from here, thank you for the salted caramel hot chocolate, I will see you tomorrow"
I concentrate on one foot after another, I dont really breath until I get into my car. What is wrong with me?
