Come Clean. Play Dirty.

Story Sent in by Leor:

I was seated with a book at a crowded coffee shop by myself when a young woman tapped the vacant chair across from me. "Is anyone sitting here? Do you mind?"

I said, "Go ahead." She was in a beret, a pretty skirt, and a dark blue crocheted wrap. The fact that she was attractive didn't hurt one bit. I didn't want to be a creep, so I kept my glances furtive and few. She pulled out a book of her own and didn't seem to further acknowledge that I was there.

Finally, I took the initiative. "Is that a good book?"

She visibly shook and her nostrils flared. She stared at me and said, "Yes, but my appreciation for it lessens with each interruption."

I stared right back. She went back to her book, and I returned to mine, planning to ignore her for the rest of my life.

After a minute, she looked up and said, "I'm sorry. Forgive me?"

I looked back at her eyes, which bore none of the simmering fury of before. Still, I was wary, and first impressions count for a lot. I simply nodded in response and returned to my book.

"What was that?" she asked in a whisper, "Am I not even worth talking to, anymore?"

I looked back up at her and didn't say a word. She said, "Are you not going to say anything?"

I said, "I… what is it?"

She said, "I'm trying to be nice, here, and you're just being immature."

I said, "I'm sorry. I just came here to read."

She hissed, "Then why did you let me sit in this chair? You obviously wanted me to sit here or else I wouldn't be sitting here! Simple logic!"

"There's nowhere else to sit. I was just being polite."

"Oh, I get it. You were just being polite. So in your way of just being polite and all, that includes treating me like crap?"

"I just want to read my book."

"Too late for that. We're going to talk about this."

I returned to my book, sincerely hoping that she'd just go away if I ignored her. She didn't, and she continued talking and talking and insulting me and talking some more, all in that little whisper of hers. I wanted so badly to explode at her, to shut her up, and I could feel it coming. Still, I knew that if I did that, it would be giving her exactly what she wanted. I could've left, but I had come there to read, and I wasn't going to be bullied away.

Snap. Snap. She snapped her fingers around my head. She asked, "Hello? Are you even listening? Hello? I'm talking to you. Hello? Hello? You're going to die cold and alone because you're not talking to me. I can go on for hours. I make the time to try and fix things out of the goodness of my heart and you play stupid little immature games with me. You must be the most bitter person in the world I can't believe this…" and so on.

I lowered my book close to the surface of the table. With my other hand, I slowly pulled out my phone and sent a text to a friend of mine. She didn't see that.

She went back to her book, but intermittently looked up from it to say something denigrating. Around 20-30 minutes after I sent the text, a guy with messy hair and wearing multiple coats walked into the coffee shop and stumbled right over to her.

"Hey, Rose!" he said, wagging his head back and forth.

"Excuse me," she replied, "My name isn't Rose and I'm trying to read."

He squatted at the table, as there were no empty chairs around. "Mind if I join you guys?" he asked me.

"No," I said.

The guy extended his hand to me and I shook it. He said, "Appreciate it, man. I'm Travis. Rose and I go way back."

"I don't want you joining us," the girl said, "And my name isn't Rose and you don't know who I am."

Travis continued, to me, "Rose is a fantastic girl. She was a prostitute and I saved her from the streets."

I said, "That must be a hell of a story. Go for it."

"Rose!" he said and slapped her on the back. "Great to see you again! Still doing that trick with the feathers and ribbon? My bed smelled like ass for weeks!" He turned to me and said, "Her ass smells like a man's ass."

I looked at "Rose" and laughed at her. "Rose" picked up and left that moment. Travis sat down in her seat. I stood to grab him a well-deserved coffee.

The text I had written to my friend Travis had read, "Crazy girl at Rook's Coffee Shop. Help me scare her away."