Sharing Space

So I'm currently sitting in my favorite coffee shop, the Lotus Club on the Lower East Side.

It's nothing fancy, but I love it because it is one of the first places I frequented in my neighborhood, and unfortunately places of this kind are becoming extinct (thanks largely to high rents that apparently only Starbucks can afford).

It's an easy-going sort of place. The coffee is not great, but it's cheap and mellow. During the day, it's a laptop-o-rama since they have free wireless. And at night it turns into a sort of dive bar with cheap drinks, the way a lot of places in this neighborhood used to be.

The problem, though, with a place like this can attract some really annoying people. Take the couple next to me. (and by "next to me" I mean at my table) Now granted, I'm at a table for four, but that's ok during the day since it's not busy and there are lots of empty tables around. And this table is near a plug for the trusty ol' computer. The guy was meandering around, and I thought he was looking for a plug-- you sort of start to recognize that wanting glare people get when they're looking for juice.

In a small fit of neighborly goodness, I offered him a seat at my table.

Big Mistake. Give someone an inch and they take a mile.

Not only did he not have a computer, he has a friend who has since joined him (she's here now rustling her newspaper every three seconds or so) and a penchant for singing along to the radio.

You know, buddy, I like Cat Stevens just as much as the next guy, but you're not in your shower. You're in public. And if you don't know all the words to Whiter Shade of Pale, it is NOT ok to just hum along. I have headphones in my ears and I can hear you still.

Ew. Now he's biting his nails. Fleetwood Mac just came on, apparently he likes this one too. Oh, there goes a finger in the nose. I have to go home.