May 23rd   

    My coffee was cold.

    I wrapped my mitten hands around my paper cup and cursed under my breath. Gas station coffee always went cold, far too quickly. Probably because it was usually barely lukewarm to begin with. I picked at the rim of the plastic lid.

    "Who are you waiting for?"

    "Just sit down." I didn't even look up. 

    He sat beside me on the park bench, the wood on it splintering and the green paint badly peeling; I focused on the hole by the heel of his faded Levi's and pretended like I didn't feel his shoulder brush against mine. 

    "Finally made it here, huh," he said. It wasn't a question. 

    I mustered a tiny ounce of courage and directed my gaze upwards, peering at him through the dark haze of my bangs over my eyes. A small smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I said, "Miss me?"  

    I remember the first time I saw him.

    He looked like a fool, dancing in the middle of the street at 2:00am, with rain pouring down, soaking his nice suit along with that raven black hair of his. A pair of glasses was tucked away in the pocket of his coat, and he carried his shoes, one in each hand as he spun around with his arms spread and his face tilted up toward the angry, midnight sky.

    I watched from my doorstep, a fast cooling cup of gas station coffee between my knees. What an idiot, I thought. He's gonna get sick.

    "You're not gonna catch a cold, you know!"

    He was talking to me. "Excuse me?" I asked, squinting my eyes at him through the hammering rain.

    He laughed. "Well, someone's in a bad mood!" he jeered. "Come dance with me!"

    I shook my head, and took a smug sip from my coffee. "I don't even know you!" I called out."

    "That's fine! You don't need to," he replied. He set his shoes down, and extended a hand out towards me. "Come on; get up off that porch and live a little, why don't you."

    I rolled my eyes, and stood.

    "That's the spirit!"

    I turned around and went inside the house, the sound of his cheerful laughing echoing in the streets behind me.

    Rain was always my favorite. Gloomy days always had a way of making me feel... at peace, I guess. I don't know.

    And here I was at this cafe that was a favorite of mine, sipping on a cup of gas station coffee, just staring at my slice of cheesecake that I had barely touched, Empire of the Sun blaring in my earbuds. My notepad sat beside the plate, open to a blank page with a blue ink pen laid across the paper.

    Penny sat across from me, an annoyed expression on her face. Her cheek rested in her palm and she tapped her fingernails against the edge of the table as she heaved an irritable sigh. "Hellooo," she mouthed at me.

    I waved.

    Penny rolled her eyes and leaned forward to jerk an earbud out of my ear. "What's your deal?" she demanded. I shrugged. "Seriously. I was walking by and saw you sitting in here looking all depressed. What's up, chick?"

    "Nothing?"

    "Don't feed me that bullshit."

    I cracked a smile; Penny always knew when something was up, but she also had a way of thinking there was a problem when there wasn't one. Then again, so did I. Maybe that was why we got along.

    "Nothing's wrong; swear," I promised. "I do have a story for you, though."

    She cocked an eyebrow and leaned forward, suddenly excited.

    I laughed. "'Kay, so. Last night I saw this guy."

    "Was he cute?"

    "I guess?" I reached forward and closed my notepad. "I wasn't really paying much attention." I shoved my notebook into my beat up corduroy bag and stood. "I gotta go; I'll catch you later." I ignored her blatantly annoyed sigh as I went past her. 

    "Some story! One of these days you'll figure it out!" she called to my retreating back. I silently flipped her the bird without looking back and smiled at her obnoxious laugh of a response.

     Work was hell; people just didn't quite grasp the concept of a ten percent tip these days, and didn't really understand that leaving a $2.00 tip on a $60.00 ticket basically meant that I had paid out of my pocket for them to eat. I sighed and slipped the cash into my apron. 

    I never talked much to my coworkers, either. They weren't really my type of people, and it didn't help that I was fairly new, so everybody already knew everybody and had made friends. I wasn't good at making friends. 

    It hadn't always been that way. I used to be the kind of person to go out of my way in order to spark up a conversation. But the more I tried to interact and be friendly and joke around, the more I saw the look on their faces turn into the "Why The Hell is this Bitch Talking to me?" look. I got that look a lot. So I eventually just shut my damn mouth.

    There were no tables filled in the restaurant, so I made my way back to the bar to polish glassware.

    "Jesus Christ," I muttered; Rain Man was sitting at the bar. And he was looking right at me. 

    "Well, well," he said, with a slight chuckle. "It's you! The woman of my dreams." He winked. 

    I rolled my eyes and turned my back on him to polish a glass. 

    "Oh, cold shoulder now?" He shrugged. "That's harsh. How about a beer, then?" 

    I pretended like I couldn't hear him.

    "No? Okay then, what about a glass of Merlot?" 

    I grabbed a glass from the shelf, poured it half full of wine and set it in front of him. "Now will you shut up? Why are you here, anyway?" 

    He laughed, and took his glasses off. "Okay, so you totally just contradicted yourself," he said. "I can't answer that question and shut up at the same time." He smirked. 

    "Ugh."

    "Go on a date with me," he said.

    "Excuse me?"

    "What, did you burp or something?"

    I was astonished that someone, a stranger no less, could be so bold. So upfront. I didn't like it. "Um... no?"

    He shrugged again. "Suit yourself. I'll be back though. I know a catch when I see one, and you, my dear nameless waitress, certainly are one." He took a sip from his glass, and laid a fifty dollar bill on the bar top. "Same time tomorrow?" He grinned as big as a Cheshire cat, and said, "I don't need change, by the way. Have a good night!"

    I felt fairly creeped out as I clocked out to head home that night. He couldn't have possibly followed  me to work, right? Surely he wasn't that much of a lunatic. Still, I checked my back a few times as I headed out to the car; never can be too careful, right? 

    Speaking of creeps, my cat, Charles, jumped out at me as I opened the door to my apartment. "CHARLES, YOU STUPID FUCKING CAT," I shouted as he purred and rubbed up against my legs. I sighed, picked him up, and headed to my room, closing the door behind me and flopping face down on my bed. 

    I rolled over and focused on my ceiling fan's blades spinning around at a lazy speed. And now I had time to think. What was Rain Man (and why was that the nickname I had seemed to be stuck on) at the restaurant? That was weird. And why was he so fixated on taking me on a date? Also weird. I mean, yeah, he was cute. Like... really fucking cute. But also an alleged creep. But also cute. But... creep.

    Get a hold of yourself.