VIN (a.k.a. "Untitled") PT 3

“Vin. Is that short for Vincentia?”

“No.” I answer. “Vema.” I look down at the table.

“Vema? I don’t think that I’ve heard that name before.”

“It means, ‘goddess of sex.' Hopefully there aren’t too many people out there lined up to name their daughters Vema. Which would be why you've never heard it before."

“Where does the ‘Vin’ come from?”

I could say something rude. It really is none of his business. Today things are not what they usually are. I decide to answer, honestly. “When I was in high school I had trouble telling the difference between the brake and the accelerator. There were a couple of really wild rides during Driver’s Education. The Fast and the Furious had just come out.”

“Vin...as in Vin Diesel.” He says aloud, trying out my explanation. “Interesting.” 

Not-Necessarily Mean Man shifts from foot to foot. I can’t help but wonder if he was on his way to the restroom when he stopped at my booth.

“We’ve had a nice exchange of words here. It would be customary for you to invite me to sit down.” He says.

Really? “Or you could ask permission to sit down.”

“Not a people person?” He asks.

I could take his cue, apologize, and ask him to sit down. But, he did invade my space by looking over my shoulder uninvited.

“I didn’t say that I’m not a people person.” I answer. “I’m...choosy.”

“Choosy?”

“Yes.”

“So when you see someone that you want to befriend you reach right out and start talking to them?”

“Yes...no.”

“So you don’t get out much which makes you not a people person.” He concludes.

I could lie about such matters. I am tempted to lie about my social life several times a day. I don’t. “Growing up was unique in my family. As a child, I recognized the need to learn how to be alone for several hours at a time. So I learned how to be alone. And be okay with it. Even happy.”

“Doesn’t it feel empty to spend so much time alone?” He asks.

“Yes and no.” Not-Necessarily Mean Man is quickly becoming Nosy Man.

“My life doesn’t look like everyone else’s does but it works for me, much of the time.”

“If you don’t spend time with other people, doesn’t that go against nature? Human beings are a social species. It’s why we live in communities.”

Nosy Man. He has definitely become NOSY MAN. I think about his comments and decide to hit him from the other side of his own argument. “Let me ask you this. If I spend my afternoon today at home in my apartment with a cup of tea, and a book and you spend the afternoon in a coffee house surrounded by people but you spend the whole time with your face to your phone...what’s the difference?”

He doesn’t stop to think before answering, “I’m with other people.” He says.

“You aren’t talking to them. You aren’t interacting with them directly.”

“I have the option to interact.”

“True.”

“You don’t.” He counters.

“I still do. Granted, I do have to gather my things, lock the apartment, and take a walk to get to a place with people that I can interact with. But it is only a brief walk.” I ask again. “How much of a difference is there, really?”

He didn’t have a quick comeback for the question.

“Let me ask you something else. Do you know how to be alone and be comfortable with it? Do you know how long you can be alone without any human interaction whatsoever before it has a direct effect on you?”

“No.” He answers.

“I do.”

“Does that make you better than me?” He asks.

“Not better, just different.” I counter without looking up. Part of me is hoping that the conversation is over, another much smaller part of me is alert and enjoying the exchange of ideas. I wait for Nosy Man to say something else. I decide that if this stranger had been dangerous the waitress or the kid would have given off some physical cues or he would have stabbed me by now. Plucking up some courage, I ask. “Would you like to sit down?” I look up to find the waitress smiling at me.

She refills my coffee cup as she answers. “That’s real sweet of you but I get done here in about five minutes and Timmy has been waiting for me for the last two hours. I’m not sure that he can take much more of this.

“Timmy?”

“Timmy. My son.” She gestures to the boy sitting at the counter with a nod of her head.

“Where’d he go?” I ask.

“Where’d who go?” The waitress repeats loud enough for the firefighters down the block to hear.

I compensate for this by lowering my voice further, hoping the cue that this is a private conversation will be picked up. “The man that you were talking to? You and your son?”

“Oh him. He is the nicest man. Kind of handsome too. Why? You interested?” She asks.

I shake my head. This is not going well. “I just want to know if you know where he went.”

“He left...about ten minutes ago.”

“Thank you.” I answer meekly. I don’t move. My hand starts to shake, I leave it in my lap. I don’t want the waitress to see it.

“Are you okay?” She asks. “You’re getting a little pale.”

“No. I’m okay.” I offer up a less than convincing smile.

“You didn’t eat the ham did you? They always keep the ham longer than they should.”

I shake my head. “There was a death in the family." The story doesn't fit the situation at all but it's the best I can do at the moment. "I must have gotten out and around people a bit too soon.”

“That happens.” She says, patting my arm. “We all want to get past the hard stuff as soon as possible. Too soon sometimes. You take yourself home and lay down. I’ll sure you’ll feel better in no time. 

 I wait until the waitress leaves to pay my check with shaking hands. It’s difficult to stay calm. I practically run out of the diner. The waitress was kind and had good intentions but talking to men that aren’t there is not likely to be fixed with an afternoon nap. 

  I stand on the sidewalk as people walk past me. They're on their way to movies, festivals, dog parks...or whatever else. Most are smiling. I wonder what it's like to be them. To have a quieter mind. 

To not see all the possibilities to the point that it's overwhelming.  

To be focused on the present moment. 

To not need daydreams about handsome Spaniards.

 I envy them.