coffee shop thoughts 1/3-2/2

Coffee Shop Thoughts

1/3

At work, I'm holding back tears. I feel empty. I am a physical being and my body does not feel right. My blood moves faster or slower and my bones grow their own nerves. My uterus screams and needs sensation. I want to throw things; I want to scream.

Get the hell out of here. Someone’s here. I want them gone. I don’t like them. I want his head on a stick and then I want to set it on fire. This is a secret. I don’t share this; I can’t. I’m no good and I know that, but what if other people do too? I didn’t ask for this. I don't want to exist any more. Get the fuck out. Now I have to pay him.

1/10

He was a delusion. He was never good. I hurt myself because of him. I’ve wanted to die because of him.

1/26

He tried really hard to make me cum, but he didn’t. He tried, though, which is sweet. He was sweet, but I didn’t cum. I won’t see him again.

His face was buried in my pussy too long, it got weird. I started to think about death. I won’t see him again. I won’t see any of them again. Will I ever not be ashamed of sex? I feel dirty. I’ve never had sex with someone I care about.

Jesus Christ. I’m just a fucking girl.

2/2

“Dreams” by The Cranberries plays as I sit in a cold coffee shop where no matter how high I put the heat my nipples could still cut diamonds. I sit here, not as a customer, but as an employee, the only one on this shift. I get here at 7, I’ll be here until 12:30. I try to refrain from eating a pastry for breakfast because I want to be skinny. The music I’m playing has to be perfect. It needs to emulate the vibe of me and the shop. It needs to signal to any cute customers that I’m available and interested. While today I wear yoga pants and a sweatshirt, the outfit is important. People need to know I’m cool and different. The book I’m reading tells the world who I am. Right now it’s Homesick for Another World by Ottessa Moshfegh. So, clearly I’m cool.

In the mornings I spend the first few hours practically alone with a few early birds who wander in. God I’m still freezing. I spent the morning without milk. What’s that even matter if no one was here? And so now I write to pass the time. I hope this one boy comes in. He’s so cute, but I get so nervous. He gets an iced americano with a splash of almond milk or an english breakfast tea with oat milk. Last time he was in here, though, he got an iced matcha with vanilla syrup and oat milk. He asked me once if I liked The Strokes because I was playing The Strokes (I told you the music is important). “Yeah!” He said he watched a documentary about them and other bands of the early 2000s New York scene. I went home and watched it that same day so I could see him again and tell him I watched it. I haven’t told him yet.

It’s surprising really, that as cute and charming as I am, no one’s asked me out or anything. Maybe flirting? But I’m honestly so oblivious to that sort of thing.

I often sit here and listen to the conversations of customers around me. A lot of remote workers come in, friends seeing each other for the first time in a while or friends who just saw each other two days ago, first dates (those are the best).

*"Thoroughfare" by Ethel Cain plays*

Honest to god can I go two seconds without imagining getting raw dogged from behind. I’m at work for christ’s sake. I’m so horny right now.

I went home with him again and this time the sex was better, but he was worse. He talked about things I just don’t care about. I doubt he noticed how uninterested I was because he doesn’t seem too perceptive. I ignored him as best as I could at the bar where I didn’t know he was going to be. I avoided when necessary, but I also wanted him to follow me around like a puppy dog. I wanted him to know I’m the best he can do, but he’s the worst I could do. He needs me, I don't need him. But I kind of did. I needed that validation. I always do. I feel bad now because he is nice and deserves a better person than me.