The man with the jar of honey

There is a crazy man in Starbucks. He is here most days that I am here.

He sits at a table near the door, allowing him to make contact with most everyone who walks in. He wears a short sleeve, orange button down shirt, tucked into khaki pants, and black walking shoes. These are resting neatly on the tile next to his sock covered feet. He boldly lifts one foot up and rests it on his knee, his sock waving back and forth to the beat of the music. In his hands is a paper he isn’t reading, which he gives a nice loud pop to about every 30 seconds or so. There is a crinkled brown bag sitting on his table. Most of the time, he is talking quietly to himself in a nonsensical way. Every now and then I meet eyes with him, he sits upright with his reading glasses pushed down, still talking to himself, staring at my corner.
He once asked me what an Ipad was, and I tried to explain it to him. I give something of a half smile, no…more of a slightly polite quarter smile. Enough to say “Yes, I see you over there.”
He reaches in his crumpled brown bag and pulls out a large mason jar, half full with honey. He holds it up to the light with admiration, turns it a few times, and presses it to his cheek with a look of pure peace.

5 thoughts on “The man with the jar of honey

  1. I love your coffee shop posts. I always feel like I see you. I love picturing the sock on the knee, that's great! Collette, this so reminds me of our mutual love, Leo. I just typed out my favorite passage from The History of Love if you want to read it, remember when Leo goes into the Starbucks? "I felt giddy to be a part of it all, to be drinking a cup of coffee like a normal person." I'm so glad you acknowledged the presence of this orange-shirted man.

  2. THIS IS SO GOOD. It reminded me, too, of when Leo goes to the coffee shop and spills his change (wasn't it his change?) so that he will be seen. I love it, and you.

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