I didn't look up from my paper as the bell above the door rang, though I can see whoever has entered from the corner of my eye, I don't acknowledge them. Its not that the article I'm reading is very interesting to be honest, or that I've no concern for the new arrival, I just don't feel the need for companionship, not right now, and eye contact usually leads to polite conversation. Whoever they are I can hear them as they drag a chair from below the table, before hanging their dripping wet coat over the back of it. I'd guess it was a man by the way he coughs; either that or it's a woman on hormone tablets.
The paper holds nothing really worth my time, not with the state of the world at the moment, its all debt, death or politics, plastered in between the adverts for hair products or electronic goods, the worlds gone lazy, too lazy if you ask me. Not like the old days when people had to work hard for their money. No, now its all credit cards and benefit claims, the population needs a good kicking.
The odd good news story sometimes caught my eye, you know the ones, how Mr B Standish of Eccles was reunited with his long lost sister in the local Bingo hall, after thirty years apart they met again when they both won the major prize, or how Mr J Kennedy sold an old painting he'd found tucked away in his loft for three million pounds. But today it was all rubbish, how unemployment was on the up and industry was on the way down; even the page three girls seemed saggy.
I sip my coffee as the newcomer walks over to the counter behind me, standing patiently as he waits to place his order, rhythmically tapping his fingers on the worktop in time with the music on the radio. Now please don't get me started on the music of today, all that synthesised crap and irritating voices that grate on your nerves two seconds after the song starts, and all they sing about is sex, drugs and violence, its not like the music I grew up with, not that I'm old or anything, Buddy Holly or The Shadows played their music way before I was born. No, my music was the 80's, when Nick Kershaw's 'Wild Horses' or Pat Benetar's 'Love is a battlefield' filled the airwaves, now that was real music. Music that made you stop and think, with lyrics that actually told a story.
I can hear the man behind me as he sighs, bored of waiting to be served, and that's another thing, people today have no patience, life flashes past them so fast that they miss it, so eager to be somewhere else. I can hear him moaning, muttering to himself as he gives up waiting, storming passed me, he grabs his coat and slams the door behind him as he goes, leaving me thankfully alone once more with my paper.
I need a fag, but the rains coming down so heavy outside and I can't be bothered getting wet, god its a stupid law, not letting you smoke indoors, if this was my café I'd let people smoke in here and damn the law to stop me. People should be allowed to do what they liked more, I don't mean things like murder or rape, oh no that need to be controlled, serious crimes need punishment, but little things that don't really do anyone any harm should be ignored. Secondary smoking is a myth like Global warming, it's just something the government boffins have made up to add another level of control into our lives, one more way to tax us and keep us down.
The bell rings again and a young woman walks in talking on her mobile phone, she has a nice voice but a foul mouth, every third word's a swear word. I can hear her talking about her boyfriends antics in the bedroom, or the lack of it by the sounds of it, and how he doesn't have the slightest idea what to do. She laughs at something said to her, calling her a dirty bitch as she passes me by to stand at the counter. She's wearing nice perfume though, masked by the smell of stale cigarette smoke, but still strong enough to make me look up at her.
Her short skirt and knee high boots seem to be the fashion nowadays, not that I'm complaining, oh no, as far as I'm concerned there should be more legs and ass on show. But not for fat chick though, or ugly ones come to that, but for a certain group it should be law. She's not actually bad looking, if she scraped off the ton of makeup she's caked to her face. With her smallish button nose and deep blue eyes she's quite a looker, with her blonde hair plaited into a pigtail that hangs down her back. She continues to talk as she chews on her gum until she spots me looking at her and turns around, telling her friend that a pervert is watching her.
I would object to that, but the fact she's turned her back to me just gives me something else to look at instead. I try to ignore her conversation; she's explaining now what he does to her in intimate details; the idea of having a private conversation seems to be lost on her as she talks about bloody girth and stamina.
In my day, before all these mobile phones, people talked quietly, in hushed voices, as though you sat in a library and you respected other people. Not like today, respect died a long time ago, along with common sense and community pride, people are just lazy now, very lazy. We had less then but valued it more; everything's throw away now, to be used and tossed into the gutter, just adding more rubbish for our future generations to have to deal with.
I sip my coffee before turning the page, scanning over my horoscope for today before moving onto the cartoons, none of them look funny, but its easy reading. The girl swears about the poor service and storms out of the shop, spitting her gum outside the door as she pulls a fresh smoke from her pocket and lights it before leaving. The door slowly closes creaks on its hinges before clicking back into place. I check my watch as I finish my coffee; folding the paper carefully back together before I stand and wipe the table down, a few moments before the bell rings again.
"Thanks for watching the café for me Bob" John smiled "I told you it'd be only for half an hour. Did you have any problems?"
"None at all" I reply, putting the cup back behind the counter, "It's been dead in here, must be the bad weather, people today don't seem to have the get up and go they used to"