A Morning Ruined

Or was it?

I am an empty vessel through which a story may come into this world. I call forth a story to come through me now.

Langston said this in his mind three times. With anything important he always said things or did things in threes.

Langston was a writer and he did 95.4 per cent of all his writing in the mornings. To him, mornings were sacred. He had already gone outside to perform his sunrise ceremony and he had already done his morning meditation. He had a full glass of ice water with lemon on his writing desk along with a full pack of cigarettes, a lighter, and a clean and empty ashtray.

He was ready to write. Taking three long deep breaths he placed his fingers above the computer keyboard.

And that is when it happened. There was a knock at his door.

Goddamn it! Goddamn it! Goddamn it!

Withdrawing his fingertips, Langston got up to answer the door.

With the door barely open enough to enter, Ricardo raced past Langston and began pacing back and forth in Langston’s home. Ricardo was a casual friend Langston had known for about five years.

Although the two men had nothing in common Ricardo had somehow managed to ingratiate himself into Langston’s life.

Returning to his desk chair, Langston sat and watched Ricardo pace for a few minutes then he finally spoke, “Goodness gracious, what the heck happened?”

Ricardo stopped pacing and looked at Langston, “My girlfriend and I just had the biggest fight of all time. We were yelling so loud that I just had to get out of there. I had no idea where to go so I came here. Please tell me you have some coffee going.”

“You know I don’t drink coffee.”

“Oh yeah? Then why do you have a coffee maker sitting on your kitchen counter?”

“Because I have succumbed to social convention… and because I’ve watched too many episodes of Big Bang Theory. To quote Sheldon Cooper, ‘When a friend is in distress you make them a hot beverage.’ If no one came to my home I would have no use for a coffee maker.” Langston stood up and went into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee.

Ricardo continued pacing as he spoke, “We’ve been together for eight months now. That’s the second longest I’ve ever lived with a woman. I really thought she was the one for me. She seemed perfect. But now she’s showing her true colors.”

Langston pushed the button on the coffee maker to start the brewing process then returned to his desk chair.

Ricardo kept pacing, “So I wake up this morning and there’s no coffee ready! Then she announces that she’s not in the mood to cook breakfast. Of course in order to cook breakfast she would have to first wash the mountain of dishes in the sink. I swear she has gotten so lazy lately. And you know why?”

“Why?”

“She’s distracted. I’m convinced it’s because she’s screwing around with that guy she works with. She keeps saying that they’re ‘just friends.’” (Ricardo made air quotes.) “But we all know guys and girls can’t be friends without the guy wanting to nail the girl. It’s simple biology.”

Short scenes from the movie When Harry Met Sally flitted through Langston’s mind.

“When she first moved in we were doing it like bunnies. I mean several times a day, every day. My god she was insatiable and so was I. I’ve never experienced such passion. And she is just so hot! But now… now she’s hardly ever in the mood anymore. I just know it’s because of that guy.”

Langston got up and went into the kitchen to pour Ricardo a hot cup of coffee. After handing it to him Ricardo finally stopped pacing and sat down in a chair. Cradling the coffee mug in both hands, he sipped from it as though the coffee was some kind of divine elixir.

“You know, she always made the coffee because she was always the first one out of bed in the morning. She made this expensive fancy coffee from Costa Rica or some place. It was really strong but it was good. But you know what? This coffee is even better. What kind is it?”

“Folgers.”

“Seriously?”

“Yup. It’s Folgers and it has been sitting in my kitchen cabinet for almost two years.”

“Wow. Well it’s positively delicious,” Ricardo took several more sips. “Well anyway, this morning I once again confronted her about the guy at work and once again she vehemently denied it. The more she denies it, the more I am convinced that she’s screwing that guy. What do I do?”

Langston sat in silence as he watched Ricardo sip — almost guzzle — the coffee.

“Seriously, Langston. I need your help. What do I do?”

Langston leaned forward in his chair, “What you should do is go home, get down on your knees and apologize profusely to her for being such a dick.”

Ricardo took a couple more sips of coffee then looked menacingly at Langston. Quietly, he said, “Fuck you.” After taking a few more sips he then set the coffee mug on the side table and stood up. He then proceeded to the front door and let himself out.

Damn! Damn! Damn!

Langston slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand. His morning writing session had been utterly ruined by Ricardo. He should never have opened the door.

But then Langston had a flash of insight. He had called forth a story to come through him so that he could write it out. Instead a story showed up at his front door and then acted itself out.

Langston suddenly had a story for his writing session. Turning to face the computer he took three long deep breaths and placed his fingertips above the computer keyboard. That is when a perfect and simple title came to him…

He typed out: Coffee.

Copyright by White Feather. All Rights Reserved. Thanks for reading.