Saturday Morning in Starbucks
I overslept this morning. Spectacularly. Well – spectacularly for me. I didn't scrape myself out of bed until 9am, and then my head reminded me that I drank three glasses of wine while watching “It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia” late last night. It's taken me until now (an hour and a half later) to come round. I really can't drink any more.
I'm not quite sure how I missed “It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia” – I remember seeing adverts for it years ago, but it wasn't until listening to Marc Maron's podcast yesterday where he interviewed Danny DeVito that the seed was sown to watch it.
I'm sitting in Starbucks, if you were wondering about the title of this post. Miss 14 is at football practice – at the big park down by the river. I walked into town with her, on the agreement she can come and find me when she finishes. I've holed myself up at a table at the far end – away from the hubbub of trophy mums and label clad youngsters. There's an impossibly pretty blonde mum sitting just across from me with her little girl. She's intimidatingly beautiful – and making me self conscious about my scruffy combats, hoodie, and nerdy t-shirt.
At least I had a shave today.
Whenever I find myself killing time in public spaces, my mind wanders off to Walter Mitty adventures – imagining unlikely scenes unfolding between the people nearby. Obviously I'm going to elope with that blonde lady – you know – the one I would find it impossible to talk to without stumbling over words, and laughing at entire sentences I didn't even say.