Pachanga Diaries

Rio Piedras, Puerto Rico
August 9, 2007. Late at night in my parent’s house

- Stop the world that I want to get off!! -

A co-worker screamed once, from his cubicle, while facing some problems with his computer.

“Fascinating” – I thought.

Life is this train we didn’t ask to be put on. It is a train we have been put on because our other afterlife train has been re-route, delayed or cancelled. Once we are in this train you can’t get off. This train doesn’t, but, go through a funny railroad called world. You can stay in your seat and just look through the window. Or, you can look through the window with others. The people that are seating next to you are your family. They will interpret what you see through the window at the beginning of your trip.

Eventually, you start wandering down the hallway of this train looking at other windows. You start wondering about other windows; “Are we looking at the same side of the train? Are we looking up? Why is that window smaller? Why is that other one bigger? Why is that person’s window cleaner than mine? Do they have a special technique to clean his window?” Mmmhh … I wonder.

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Editor’s note: This is a guest poem from Virginie’s lost swan of the Copper Ceiling blog

What Saxy’s Cafe must be like in the morning,
I imagine people rushing in to get their mochas;

in the early afternoon the first glass of wine has just
been taken to the couches, a Pepperwood that

a woman with a V neck is holding in the air, as
she reads a book; then looks up, two women
friends coming to join her;

a barista is talking about her thesis on the Tour
De France in literature and art…

In the old movie there on the cafe wall people
are waving goodbye to family and friends who

are at the railing of a ship and the people on
the ship wave down to the people on the dock…

An argument breaks out near me, a man and
a woman holding a baby, the man saying, “Your

sister can go to hell!” I get up to order a doppio…
By night I meet a date on the couches, a woman

whom I’m introducing to Saxy’s, and she buys us
two red wines for my birthday that has recently

passed, and there’s conversation all around us,
a student who looks stoned, and a homeless man

coming in who wears a Yankee cap in Winter…

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Against the wall, with a big square mirror hanging on the wall over it, there is a coffee couch. Many coffees this couch has had together with visitors of Saxy’s. Many conversations and questions have been asked while enjoying the comfort of this couch.

- How was your day?
- Good thank. How is; work … the children … your husband … that boyfriend … homework?

The couch just listens, doesn’t say anything and enjoys the warmth of its customer’s backsides.

Today, Saturday morning, a couple sat down and a sneaky guest has joined in …

Red Cap, promoting Bandon Dunes with fleece and kaki pants, is reading the newspaper while Curvy Shiny Long Black Hair is having lunch. The game of reading body language is about to begin.

On a chair next to the coffee couch there is a five o’clock Shadow, late thirties, in a Brown Sweater holding a large, green pastel coffee cup. He is reading a book entitled, “Color Management”.
He stares over her shoulder and makes a comment about the magazine she’s reading. Her attention is caught.

He, Brown Sweater, is still holding his color book while listening to her answer. Perhaps a – tell me more about it – initiated her interest in maintaining the conversation. As she keeps looking at her article and talking about it, Brown sweater, in a very subtle way, glances over Red Cap boy. It is obvious Red Cap is sensing how comfortable Brown Sweater feels about stealing away her attention. Evaluating and weighing her interest in talking to him over how uncomfortable Red Cap feels, Brown Sweater know he has to stay with her.

It is 100% attention for her; Red Cap is lost.

Red Cap keeps reading his newspaper, perhaps the sport section, as Brown Sweater has registered that Curvy is now tilting away from Red Cap. He puts the book down, glances over at Red Cap to monitor comfort levels and twists around facing her. They are looking at each other and curvy crosses her left leg over her right. She touches her hair.

Red Cap coughs – … cough, cough … (now louder) cough, cough – . No reaction from Curvy. Brown Sweater paces himself as he starts to move his hands over the couch’s shoulder. She looks at his hands and keeps talking. Red Cap keeps listening in on the conversation and staring at his news sports perhaps thinking “Am I invisible?”

The tension is increasing as she keeps talking enthusiastically and touching her beautiful black hair more often. Brown Sweater knows.: Red Cap has had it with this fella.

Red Cap wasn’t going to take it – Hi, my name is “Red Cap” – he interrupted. – Hi, my name is Brown Sweater (aka BS) … bla, bla … o yeah I’ve also heard that … -

Eventually, Brown Sweater noticed that his cue to leave is close. Five to ten minutes no more. Seven minutes later he says – Well, I have to take off but it was nice meeting the two of you -

They recap (ha!) on their names – What was your name again? – Brown Sweater asked Red Cap as if he really didn’t know or care the first time. Because, probably he didn’t. He didn’t recap names with curvy … of course.

Some public display of attention at the couch between curvy and red cap and you could see that expression women always have when a guy fight for them …. a beautiful smile.

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