the old man would pull me over and talk to me every time I saw him at the coffee shop. his subjects were often the same, little nuggets of wisdom we're all familiar with.
most of the time it was a nuisance. i would make smiley faces, half understanding anything said, as I kept wanting to get on with life, which is code word for work.
and most grating of all, this ritual kept me away from coffee. i mean, that's the main reason I came, and my cravings would erupt in quiet desperation. i would start resenting everything. why the hell do i do this to myself every damn time? why do i come here knowing this is going to happen with 100% certainty.
but recently, he hasn't been coming in. and life has gotten more uncomfortable without his greetings. and life is never 100%.