I had my chai tea and found a place to sit in the earthtone room. Settling into the couch and propping my feet upon a plush stool that could double as a chair, I began to read.
A few items lay on the stool next to mine and when he came back I realized they were his. He didn't smell good and he certainly didn't buy that alchohol from Starbucks, but he filled a cheap, plastic takeout cup with it anyway.
The man on the other side eventually walked away. I stayed put. I felt good about myself. I felt good that I finished my book while sitting next to the man.
But did I ever talk to him? No. I didn't even ask his name.
Will I learn something more from this than how to post a blog entry?
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