Real Life, So Close I can almost touch it....

It's 8:36 p.m., PST. I'm in a Starbucks, just off the I-15, on 4th St., in Rancho Cucamonga. The N/B I-15, my direction, was backed up at 7:15, when I finished gassing up at the Costco across the street, so I ducked in here to do some computer work, and to give the freeway a chance to lighten up.

I'm sitting at a table against the north wall, facing west. Across from me there's a little table, with two cushioned chairs at right angles to each other. One chair is against the west fall, facing east. The other chair is against the north wall, facing south.

About 10 minutes after I seated myself, a pretty Hispanic woman came in. She had ugly glasses on, and was carrying a plastic bag. Nicely dressed, nice make up, her hair clean and neat and hanging freely, about shoulder blade length, parted in the middle, no bangs. Naturally I worried that I'd have to hurt her feelings if she came on to me. But she pretended to ignore me, and sat there, in the chair facing me. So I let her play her little game. She pulled out what looked like a slick brochure from the plastic bag and began to flip through it.

Then 15 minutes later a handsome Hispanic gentleman, about her age, late 20s?, came in and took the chair to her left, my right. So I'm about 8 feet from his left ear.
She leaned over and kissed him. They chatted briefly, but she was doing all the talking. She was speaking Spanish, and it sounded "fluent," like she is a native speaker. But then later she got a cell call, and her English sounded excellent.

And then he said something and the tenor of the tableau changed... It became obvious that she was being dumped. She took off her glasses and laid them on the little table, so that she could cover her eyes and more freely emote. Taking off the glasses really changed her looks. Obviously she was always pretty, but the glasses had hidden it.

For the past 90 minutes he has sat quietly, enduring the looks she gives him. She's trying to save their relationship and he just sits there, listening to her, but not giving her any feedback. I can't see his face, but her face is only about 11 feet from me and all her feelings are writ large, writ bold, there. A painter would allow toe nails to be ripped from his toes if he or she could have the chance to paint this face.

She's been fighting tears and sometimes she comes so close that she has to cover her eyes. She looks up at the ceiling at times, probably trying to clear her head, or find some new inspiration. And through it all he sits there, hardly speaking. I figure he thinks he's doing the right thing in letting her get this out of her system; he probably thinks that a lesser man would have dropped the bomb and then cut out... But he's sterner stuff, a cut above. He's going to let her say everything she's got welling up in her; he's doing her this favor and he'll feel good about himself when he finally does take his leave, off to whatever he thinks is a better situation.

Right now she must be tiring. She's been at the edge of her chair all this time, but now she has sat back and there's a certain slackness to her posture, and even to her face; no one could keep up that kind of intensity for this long a time. Why doesn't she scream at him? She's probably tempted, but she may still be thinking that 'there's still a chance.'

She just got up! She did start to leave once, but he put out his right hand and touched her left arm and got her to sit back down. But now she walked past me, into the heart of the storm. Probably to the bathroom. Now she's back, her hands in her pockets, taking her seat with little enthusiasm. She's got to know how this is going to play out. But who wants to face unpleasant truths? Certainly not me. Give me my illusions!

We've all been there, at times on one side, at times on the other. But I have never had a chance to be so close as an observer. I'm going home now, and I'm going to give my wife some extra kisses for always being there for me. Give some props to your significant other, too. There but for the grace of that significant other go you. Again...

As Neville Chamberlain said, Piece in our time...