There was a young 20-some-year-old woman sitting opposite me yesterday, as I had dropped by the Luna Café at Argyle & Dovercourt. She was listening to her iPod while reading a magazine but her eyes never remained long on whatever she was reading. She kept glancing furtively at what few patrons were in the coffee shop, including myself. It was a bit disconcerting to feel I was being watched as I sat and read at my own table not too far from hers. It made me nervous to the extent that I found myself copying her by peeking in her direction a few times. Once or twice our gazes clashed and we looked away quickly as if caught in an illegal act. I had to make a conscious effort to focus on my reading and not look over at her table.
I wonder what she was thinking at the time? I wonder if she’s now writing a blog entry about the strange guy in the café who kept looking in her direction?
Whatever. It was all very weird.
Our visual fencing didn’t stop me from enjoying the last rays of the sun, however, as it streamed through the windows of the café. I’d discovered this place on a bike ride a few months ago and had promised myself I’d return to try the coffee. I was also looking for a bite to eat, but the waitress told me they’d sold out of pastries and the kitchen was closed (it was around 3:30 p.m.). My only option was a packet of small, soft cookies. Meh! I settled for just the coffee, which was very good; thick, dark, strong. It packed a punch!
I read for a while—revising for a class I’m taking—before making my way home after an hour-long stroll around the west end of the city. The day was glorious for November, but I could feel a chill in the air whenever I was out of the sun’s rays.
As I left the café, I couldn’t help but risk one more glance at the gadfly by the window, whose eyes quickly darted from mine as she pretended to go back to reading her magazine.