he sat there sipping at a latte
drawing or writing poetry
while i stared at the back of his head
he peaked with excitement
as his friend walked through the door
the friend placed his winter coat
on the other chair at the table
and said
"I'll be right back"
in less than two minutes
he returned with a medium
citrus blend green tea
they talked too quietly
for me to decipher
what they were saying
over whatever machine
the barrista was running
behind the counter
the machine stopped
and they were talking about
friends they used to have
when they were in college
the whole conversation seemed
rather boring
but
so is my life
since i stopped drinking
so i pretended they were interesting
i pretended that i am interesting
for listening to their anticlimactic
dialogue
Damn!
the banality gets to me
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