LGBT
She is staring at the paper, casually turning the page. Her eyes glance up at the closed door and back at the editorial; the opposite seat is un tucked waiting to be occupied. She taps her fingers in a steady rhythm, falsely predicting the arrival of her girlfriend.
“strawberry Italian soda and a Caesar salad.” Called a lady from behind the counter emphasizing on the “A” in soda.
She slowly raised her hand, not wanting to get out of her seat in fear someone else would take it or her date would see the empty chair and leave without her being there. The lady walked towards her with a sympathetic look, and set the drink and the bowl down in front of her.
“Thanks.” She whispered.
She closed the paper and pushed it to the side; she grasped the soda in her hand and sipped cautiously on the straw, replenishing her thirst. Where was she? Why isn’t she here? The questions rang through her brain over and over again. Till the thoughts of her girlfriend lying in bed with a silent alarm clock turned into hallucinations of her walking by, hand in hand with another woman. Her tapping fingers increased in speed, until the stares of an old man sitting in the corner caught her off guard, destroying the rhythm forcing her to stop. The silence of the busy coffee shop disturbed her, she scanned the coffee shop and noticed the speakers in the corners. Covered in dust and not a sound emanated from them; quietly she began humming, it was slow at first but as the song she hummed reached the chorus it sped up, she got louder.
Her finger began tapping again, she frantically looked at the door and back at her food, to the old man in the corner, and the line-up of guys that had grew in front of the till. The guys were mostly standing in pairs, but with all their different attire and possession’s in hand it looked as though someone had put them on a playlist and pressed shuffle. The boy at the back of the queue turned his head to look at her, his raised eyebrow and hands in pocket and a face embroidered with a disgusted look.
She stopped tapping, and her humming ceased. Her rosy cheeks stared down at the salad in front of her; she picked up her fork and poked the softening croutons. A gentle tear caressed the side of her face as it slowly slid down and fell on the table. Time was up. Her half-finished soda and untouched salad was the only thing she left as she strode out the door. The sound of the bell that hung on the door rung loudly as it slammed shut behind her.
The old man in the corner refilled his cup of coffee and watched as a girl with torn clothes and unfastidous hair ran in. she saw the half empty Italian soda and the untouched salad, immediately collapsing onto the un-tucked chair. The boy at the back of the line was now sitting across from her, he got out of his chair and walked up to the girl.
“she went that way.” He said as he pointed out the door and to the right. His friends were all shouting at him to leave the “stupid dyke” alone, but he ignored them and smiled at her. Her teary eyes looked up at him.
“thanks.” She said softly. She straightened out her hair and ran to the door, looking back at the boy she smiled; then she was gone. The boy returned to his seat and ignored his friends as the lesbian jokes were being told. His focus remained on the ringing bell hung on the door.