I don't know a feeling more self-defeating than that of eating a hearty breakfast on a full stomach.
I got lucky this morning though, my appetite answered just as the plate full of blueberry lemon ricotta pancakes hit the table.
as I was about to fork over the first bite into my ever so patient but anxious jaw, the elderly man next to me politely gestured towards my notebook to ask me if i was a writer.
"no, but I like to keep my thoughts stored somewhere".
His name was Bob. Sweetest guy. A total marshmallow.
I told him I preferred a pen and a notebook as opposed to a tablet
"you can write an essay without a crayon, but it wouldn't be any fun" he said to me.
or at least that's what i think he said.
within the span of 15 minutes, we somehow ended up talking about everything from Philip Roth to masochism.
as he was parting ways from his side of the booth, i reached over to shake his hand. at first, i couldn't tell if it was a flinch, but he shut his eyes and reacted with an apprehensive smile as he allowed me the gesture.
"oh, you know, i have many phobias, i don't normally shake hands with strangers".
but he let me anyways.
Update: Dec 30 12:47pm. In a surprising turn of events, Bob has personally reached out to clarify all the hullabaloo. The original quote...
"You can write an essay using a crayon, but why would you bother?".
Thank you, Bob!