“Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon ‘em.”
– William Shakespeare
The café is crowded tonight but I have no patience for a crowd. Minutes will be lost in the long line for a Frappuccino, not to mention the relentless effort needed to secure even the smallest of tables-this will cost me precious writing time. A cold urine spot on my underwear rubs against my skin, adding to the increased frustration.
It amazes me how after a lifetime of daily practice I still can’t efficiently shake and squeeze the excess pee from my dick. A violent spasm takes over my right knee—my pressure valve. Perhaps I should just go back home and attempt to work through an eight-year-old’s constant demand for attention and the futile arguments of two teenage girls over phone time, nail polish, and all that’s trivial in the universe.
The words of my colleagues come to mind: “You are not a true writer until you have produced under the most deplorable conditions.” They’re quick to recite the words of the great Toni Morrison, who explained in an interview how she wrote around her baby’s vomit: “While I was writing he spit up orange juice on the manuscript, on the tablet that I was writing on and I distinctly remember writing around it because I thought I had this really perfect sentence that might not come back if I stopped and wiped up his puke.”
So, I resolve to abandon the romantic notion of a productive night to creamy Fraps, smooth jazz, and the comfort of unified chatter. Making my way through the customers, I head home determined to write around it…when I see Jake coming in. His left hand already in the air signaling for me to join him at a nice table near the windows that is freeing up. Confirming his invitation with a similar wave, I shout over a few heads to ask what he’s having.
“Tall Latte-no whipped cream!” He yells back taking off his coat and draping it over the chair.
Others have been waiting for more than fifteen minutes (their coffees turning cold) hovering over seated patrons, like hawks watching their pray from an elevated position. But not a minute through the double doors, Jake’s set up at one of the most sought after spots in the entire place. Lucky bastard.