The Simple Man

There was a man who would come by my café and get plain dark roast coffee with no sugar and just a pinch of cream. He was a pretty basic man, nothing about him ever screamed great importance or meaning. He wasn’t the type of character you would deem the main character. He was more of the main character’s ex best friend. The type of character that, while having good intentions, could never quite do anything right. He often struggled to talk to people or at least seemed to, he often kept quiet and stayed to himself scribbling away in some little black notebook. However, whenever the man did say something it was always so sweet and yet he would say it in a fashion that you couldn't tell if you should be insulted or take it as a compliment. “I like your hair” the man would smile with the corners of his eyes wrinkling kindly. If you just looked at the top part of his face you would think of it as a complement but the moment you looked down to his devilish smirk, you’d definitely take it as an insult.

The man was nice, but after a while he stopped coming by my shop. At first I was worried, but after time I got used to it and his absence soon became a thing of normalcy. Later I found out it was because he had hit the jackpot. I guess when you have an extra 20k your life goals change a little. Sometime passed and I had heard he had paid for his kids college and donated the rest to charity. When he finally came by the shop again though he looked like a different man his hair was neat and combed, his stubble was shaved, and on his feet he wore some fancy looking leather loafers. He wasn't nearly completely different than before but he had changed a little yet noticeably. “I like your hair” the man said, his smile the same, but his eyes lacking the warm wrinkle to even out his intimidating smirk.

He would keep coming to my shop for the next couple months ordering the same thing: a dark roast coffee with sugar and a generous amount of cream. His persona, while having changed a bit, had also stayed the same in a few areas. He still sat in the same spot and always carried with him his little black notebook, though this time coming seemed more like a chore to him.

When he finally stopped coming this time I wasn’t that surprised. As the owner of a coffee shop I had come to be familiar with the different faces that came to my shop. Some faces would be fixed in a certain way where it was apparent that they had enjoyed their life, or enjoyed the company of my little café, while some hung in a forever tired, sluggish complexion as if they had forgotten to sleep and came to reboot their senses for the day.

Years passed and the man never showed I began learning more about people. Just basic things like understanding different types of people and began playing games in my head guessing how a person would ask for their coffee. Did they want it black or with cream? Would they be kind or rude? Were they nice or honest? Throughout this ordeal I still remembered the spot the man sat in. It was a spot out of the way, kept away in the corner by the window. Nobody would ever sit there and it soon gained a sense of loneliness and misery.

While lost in thought looking at the chair, I was interrupted by a young man who had a bright face and seemed to have hopefulness permanently labeled to his face. The man opened the door with a sense of curiosity yet comfortableness. It felt like he had been here before yet I had never seen him.

“Good Morning, what can I get for you today?” I asked.

“Oh hi, I didn't see you there,” the man said startled, “I guess I’ll have a plain dark roast with no sugar and just a pinch of cream please.”

“Ok, coming right up. Feel free to sit wherever you like, we'll bring the drink to your table” i answered while walking to the coffee machine to prepare his drink. Just a pinch of cream, huh I chuckled to myself while preparing his drink. The man with the black notebook appeared in my mind, his kind eyes bringing a happy feeling of nostalgia.

“You know it took me a long time to find you” I said with a smile “nobody ever sits back here.” the young hopeful man was sitting in the corner of the shop peacefully looking out the window watching people walk by.

“Yeah…” the man chuckled. “I figured no one would sit here when I heard of it first.”

“Heard of it…? I asked confused,

“Well not heard of it per say,” the hopeful man said while attempting to dig something out of his pocket. “It was more of seeing it.” he smiled while finally managing to find what we were searching for. In the man's hand was a small black notebook inside was a perfect drawing of the spot the kind eyed man sat everyday.

“No way…”

“So you’re his son, huh?” I stated matter of factly. I had gotten us both coffees and we were not sitting across from each other at the kind eyed man’s table.

“Yea it was a terrible thing that happened to him; after he paid for my college, he sort of disappeared. I later learned that the charity thing was one of his lies and that he had given and that he had lost his remaining money after quitting his job to pursue his ‘passion’ of gambling. Apparently he was kind of good at it at the beginning but soon lost his luck after a couple months.”

“Wow that is terrible, where is he now?” I asked in shock.

“Ah, he's dead.” the man said numbly. He had obviously said that phrase a lot and yet he still didn't seem used to it. “He got mixed up with some shady people after realizing he wouldn't get any money from me, and he soon got too deep in debt and ended up dead in an ally” the man said shrugging. An awkward silence took over our conversation as we both continued to process what we discussed.

“So the notebook’s a sketch book?” I asked, hoping to change the subject as an escape from the silence.

“Yeah kind of, it was how I found this place. He was kind of an odd man when he was still his normal self.” the man answered while gesturing towards my café with a smile on his face. “The notebook was more of a diary/thought journal. He would write all sorts of things in it, the man said smiling with a sense of calming fondness.

“You have his eyes,” I said, pointing to his left eye, which had already formed small wrinkles at its corners, despite him being relatively young.

“Thanks, so i've been told,” The man said chuckling while shaking his head. “He was a simple guy, but that's what i found the most comfort in. Most people nowadays are always trying to be unique and stand out. So I liked how he was comfortable being just normal, it reminded me to not care too much about what others thought”

“Yea he was just a plain man” I said chuckling fondly.

The end.