trip. Or if stopping at the gas station would have been a better choice.
“I’ll just have a large black coffee,” Brian said.
I looked at him and sighed. I knew judging him by his coffee choice would seem harsh , but the reality was that you could tell a lot about people by what they ordered. If a man ordered a black coffee and wasn’t sixty-five , then by my standards , that usually meant he was boring, boring, boring. On the other hand, if a woman ordered black coffee , she was probably on a diet. I knew that was a bit of a double standard, but it was still true.
I felt a little guilty about judging him that way and resolved to give him another chance . I wanted to be more open minded and tolerant . I sat across from him at a booth that look ed like it had once belonged to a Dunkin Donuts. It was a faded pink and orange. As I looked around, I realized that everything in the cafe was used. What did they do, go to a bunch of going-out-of-business sales to furnish this place? In a way , it was somewhat cool. I liked it.
Brian started talking to me abou t his mechanics business as we sat sipping coffee, which was a surprisingly good, rich brew . My mind wandered . I t was hard to focus because I had no idea what he was talking about and was distracted by being in town again . I looked around the Coffee Café at the other customers, wondering if I would see a familiar face or something interesting .—something m ore interesting than the car industry.
I noticed Helen Dani els, the wife of the Senator I was in Alkon to interview, talking to a much younger man I didn’t recogniz e. Helen was even more attractive in person than she was in her pictures. I hadn’t seen her in person for years. It wasn’t fair . Helen was beautiful and rich ; it seemed like you should have one or the other, but not both. I was jealous . I was poor and only attractive on the days with low humidity , a problem I was sure Helen Daniels didn’t have , and if she did, Helen could probably afford to buy better humidity levels. Then I spotted Tracy Wellison. I had science with Tracy my senior year. She still had the same frizzy blond hair and green eyes, courtesy of colored contacts. Didn’t that go out in the nineties? I wondered if she was still known as W illing Wellison, as she was aptly nicknamed in high school for her willingness to go with any guy as long as he was on a sports team. I smiled at the thought.
Brian glanced at me and must have thought I was smiling at his conversation as if it w as really interesting, because he smiled back and continued talking. Something about a new type of fuel injector that only his shop ha d the computers to work on. Who knew that people needed computers n owadays to work on cars? I just heard blah, blah, blah... Out of the corner of my eye , I saw Helen Daniels arguing with the man in her booth . Now this was interesting. Maybe I could pi ck up some juicy gossip for my article. Who cared if it should be more of a factual human-interest story ? P eople wanted to hear all the juicy details and Trevor was aw are of that when he offered me the job. Therefore, he shouldn’t be surprised if some juicy gossip made its way in to my article . The man looked familiar to me, but I couldn’t quite place him. I interrupted Brian’s monologue to ask, “Hey, who’s that with Helen Daniels?”
He glanced over his shoulder to answer my question . “Him? That’s Tobey Stone. He works for the Senator’s c ampaign. I think he’s the Senator’s assistant or something like that. He’s the younger brother of Chris Stone. You remember him , don’t you?”
I nodded. No wo nder he looked familiar. I went to school with Chris and vaguely remembered a younger brother who tagged along occasionally. Tobey had been a few grades behind us, so I hadn’t give n him much thought . More recently though, I had spoken to Tobey on the phone. Brian was right; he was the Senator’s assistant. Tobey was the one w ho set up
“I’ll just have a large black coffee,” Brian said.
I looked at him and sighed. I knew judging him by his coffee choice would seem harsh , but the reality was that you could tell a lot about people by what they ordered. If a man ordered a black coffee and wasn’t sixty-five , then by my standards , that usually meant he was boring, boring, boring. On the other hand, if a woman ordered black coffee , she was probably on a diet. I knew that was a bit of a double standard, but it was still true.
I felt a little guilty about judging him that way and resolved to give him another chance . I wanted to be more open minded and tolerant . I sat across from him at a booth that look ed like it had once belonged to a Dunkin Donuts. It was a faded pink and orange. As I looked around, I realized that everything in the cafe was used. What did they do, go to a bunch of going-out-of-business sales to furnish this place? In a way , it was somewhat cool. I liked it.
Brian started talking to me abou t his mechanics business as we sat sipping coffee, which was a surprisingly good, rich brew . My mind wandered . I t was hard to focus because I had no idea what he was talking about and was distracted by being in town again . I looked around the Coffee Café at the other customers, wondering if I would see a familiar face or something interesting .—something m ore interesting than the car industry.
I noticed Helen Dani els, the wife of the Senator I was in Alkon to interview, talking to a much younger man I didn’t recogniz e. Helen was even more attractive in person than she was in her pictures. I hadn’t seen her in person for years. It wasn’t fair . Helen was beautiful and rich ; it seemed like you should have one or the other, but not both. I was jealous . I was poor and only attractive on the days with low humidity , a problem I was sure Helen Daniels didn’t have , and if she did, Helen could probably afford to buy better humidity levels. Then I spotted Tracy Wellison. I had science with Tracy my senior year. She still had the same frizzy blond hair and green eyes, courtesy of colored contacts. Didn’t that go out in the nineties? I wondered if she was still known as W illing Wellison, as she was aptly nicknamed in high school for her willingness to go with any guy as long as he was on a sports team. I smiled at the thought.
Brian glanced at me and must have thought I was smiling at his conversation as if it w as really interesting, because he smiled back and continued talking. Something about a new type of fuel injector that only his shop ha d the computers to work on. Who knew that people needed computers n owadays to work on cars? I just heard blah, blah, blah... Out of the corner of my eye , I saw Helen Daniels arguing with the man in her booth . Now this was interesting. Maybe I could pi ck up some juicy gossip for my article. Who cared if it should be more of a factual human-interest story ? P eople wanted to hear all the juicy details and Trevor was aw are of that when he offered me the job. Therefore, he shouldn’t be surprised if some juicy gossip made its way in to my article . The man looked familiar to me, but I couldn’t quite place him. I interrupted Brian’s monologue to ask, “Hey, who’s that with Helen Daniels?”
He glanced over his shoulder to answer my question . “Him? That’s Tobey Stone. He works for the Senator’s c ampaign. I think he’s the Senator’s assistant or something like that. He’s the younger brother of Chris Stone. You remember him , don’t you?”
I nodded. No wo nder he looked familiar. I went to school with Chris and vaguely remembered a younger brother who tagged along occasionally. Tobey had been a few grades behind us, so I hadn’t give n him much thought . More recently though, I had spoken to Tobey on the phone. Brian was right; he was the Senator’s assistant. Tobey was the one w ho set up
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