Coffee Log, Day 33


Coffee: House cup from Mex-AM, a Mexican joint in Graham, NC. The restaurant is in a brick building with high ceilings. It’s dark, musty, and serves eggs and pancakes for breakfast. The coffee tastes like a shift-worker’s smoke-break.

I drove 60 miles west, then 60 miles east, stopping once each way. The first stop was for lunch – I saw my father and my mother, they’re doing well. The second stop was at the Tanger Outlets. The mall was busy. Everyone was dressed to impress someone, mostly themselves. I joined the shoppers for a couple hours and left with a suit. Plastic bags. The stores smelled like perfume.

Years ago, I part-timed in Tanger at the Saks. I wore a tight black shirt and worked the stockroom. Once, on a lunch break, I sat outside and ate some trail mix. A bit got caught in my beard. A man in Army formal walked by and told me to clean myself up. I wanted to punch him, but I didn’t. He looked good. He was a with a girl. These days, I like being the butt of something – there’s power in getting noticed.

Currently Reading:
Tar Baby, Toni Morrison

“If you’re losing your soul and you know it, then you’ve still got a soul to lose.” – Charles Bukowski