Monday October 26th, 2015

The exercise:

Write something which takes place in: the coffee shop.

Had a quietly pleasant birthday. Max let me sleep in past 7, I had some time to myself this morning, I spent the afternoon with Max, watched some TV with Kat this evening. Throw in some nice birthday wishes from friends and family and it all makes for a very nice day.

Of course, I had to go and cut myself while doing dishes tonight. So typing is a little awkward, what with the band-aid on my right index finger.

I'll just get right to this writing stuff then, shall I?


Max and I had the following conversation whilst at our favorite coffee shop this afternoon:

Max (while holding a carrot vegetable chip out to me): Say 'what's my name'!.

Me (after interpreting what he actually wanted me to say): What's your name?

Max: Carroty Carrot!

Me: Hi, Carroty Carrot. It's very nice to meet you.

Max (still speaking through the carrot chip): What's your name?

Me: I'm Max's Dada.

Max: Hi, Max's Dada.

Me: Hello...

Max puts the carrot chip into his mouth and starts chewing.

Me: Bye...

Max (with his mouth still full, still speaking through the chip): I'm in Max's mouth and I don't like it!

I honestly haven't laughed that loud in a public setting in a very, very long time. Best birthday present ever? Maybe.


Greg said...

Happy Birthday! I was going to bake you a cake, but I couldn't find a recipe for one big enough to hold all the candles... :-P Ah, finger cuts are just annoying, and they take too long to heal as well because they're in an area that doesn't have a big blood supply. I hope yours is better fast.
Haha, well I like Carrotty Carrot, but it sounds like I won't get the chance to meet him, or even see his picture on the blog. Though Max seems to have a great sense of humour coming along there, I trust you're encouraging him!

The coffee shop
"This is nice," said Bill, putting his feet up on the table. It wobbled, it was a wooden round table around which four chairs were clustered but only two people could realistically use, and was the IKEA-like standard for coffee shops.
"Feet!" said Ben. He was fiddling with the espresso machine, which was hissing and gurgling like it was proposing to a partially-blocked drain.
"You're not my mother!"
"Footprints, dirt from your shoes, fabric fragments from your socks...."
"Jeez, you shouldn't have gone on that forensic evidence course!" Bill took his feet down anyway and found a damp cloth to wipe the table down with. "There, better? It's not like we've stolen anything tonight."
"Yet," said Ben. He put a couple of shot glasses under the spigot of the machine and pushed a button. The machine sighed sensually and coffee started to flow. "I was thinking that we might pop into the VAG and see if they've got anything new. The front room could use a conversation piece now that we've sold the Bill Reid sculpture."
Bill shuddered. "Vancouver Art Gallery," he said delicately. "I hate the way you pronounce that abbreviation."
Ben brought the coffees over to the table. "I hear that Geradlinium Holmes is exhibiting," he said.
"Oh Lord no! I swear she curses her pieces before she exhibits them. We've still got talking mice from the last one."
"The stuffed kittens? I didn't realise..."
They drank their coffee in silence for a moment.
"This is good coffee," said Bill. "Better than the baristae make."
"Thanks," said Ben. "And coming in here when they're closed gives it a much cosier atmosphere, don't you think?"

Marc said...

Greg - ha ha, funny man. Sadly, I can't remember if I'm younger or older than you. So I shall leave it at that, for now.

Oh yes, he's a funny little man. It's amazing to see his sense of humour developing so quickly, actually.

Love the descriptions of the espresso machine. And I see you've still got the VAG on your mind :P

Fun scene, with great details. These two sound like an interesting pair!