Downtown San Antonio I look out the window of the McDonald’s while I bring the Big Mac to my mouth for a bite. Darkness shields my view of the outer realm of the restaurant known as Commerce St; the result is a view of a chica with bad posture about to bite into a, you guessed it, Big Mac. I stare, straighten up, and watch myself take a bite.
While chewing, I look across the table to the man with the maroon shirt and walking stick. He’s looking intently toward the register as if waiting for his order to be called. My instinct is to feel guilty that my order was called first; he was sitting in the same manner when I walked in. I chew and swallow the guilt with my burger; he’s got a black bag with a book in the side pocket. Based on the book being black with green illegible lettering across the top I decide that he’s got The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy; logic kicks in to say that this book requires the use of a towel. Naturally, the towel has to be in the white crumpled Wal-Mart bag also sitting on his table. Based on his persistent stare, his Wal-Mart bag must hold a yellow towel with light blue flowers. He really should have selected one what complemented his marron shirt; we all know some men just don’t know how to coordinate an outfit. If he had a wife, which he doesn’t, she would have taken the towel for herself and made him buy another one for him.
The girl in the window slouches to see if she can chew at the same time. She decides she can’t see herself swallowing the burger in a slouching mode, so she straightens up, again. Maybe I should ask if they messed up his order and are making him a burger completely from scratch. If he’s travelling the galaxy maybe McDonald’s is the only place he knows he can count on them forgetting his order, which allows him to attempt to use his psychic powers to will them into making him a fresh burger. Crap, I surely hope this McDonald’s is not the restaurant at the end of the universe…if it is he’s looking the wrong way to see the light show that is said to happen there every night. Maybe the girl in the window is the preshow to the end of the world. Maybe the man is like the guy in the book who was frozen to avoid being taxed. Nah, none of this can be true; he’s moving a bit. Furthermore, why would he have bought the towel if he planned on being dead?
I’m afraid to ask the man if he wants a burger. If he’s hungry. I look to the girl for moral support; she just gives me a blank stare almost daring me to ask, but not exactly encouraging me. I don’t like her. She finishes her food, cleans up the mess, and leaves; I shadow her, avoiding the man’s perpetual stare at the register. I walk out of the restaurant expecting to see the light show at the end of the universe that would certainly save me from my curiousity and lack of courage.
Next time, I’ll ask if he’s hungry. Next time, I might not be such a chicken. Next time, he might use his psychic power to tell me I’m imagining things and that he has a color coordinated towel his wife bought him and that he came from the restaurant at the end of the universe but decided he wanted to see the light show from earth and that I really shouldn’t stare at people in windows or those who sit at the table across from me.
Next time I’ll ask the bartender at Pat O’Brians only for one drink to keep me from over ananlyzing my surroundings…Next time, I’ll ask you to join me so I can have someone to narrate the story as it unfolds. Maybe then you can encourage me to talk to the staring man.
wishingonstars
You are a very talented writter, I enjoy your pieces, they actually pull my in all the way and make me want to never stop reading them. Keep it up and I look forward to more.