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When I get to the counter, I order the most extravagant thing on the board, some extra strong, ultra whipped, cream topped monster with chocolate flakes. I refuse to be bored, even with my food and beverage choices.
The shop girl seems to be giving me the eye, so I lean over the counter and grin while she works on my monstrous coffee.
“You’re cute.” I grin at her, and I don’t have to lie, she really is. “What are you doing tonight?”
She blushes fiercely. “Actually, I’m doing another shift here. Thanks for asking, though.”
I don’t take it hard. I didn’t have a real interest. It’s just something to say.
“Hey, since you’re not going to be free, do you know any girls that might be into the scene… A cool party or club?” I give my eyebrows a jiggle, so she knows what scene I’m looking for.
“Actually.” She glances around, speaking in hushed tones as she dusts my coffee with chocolate flakes. “There’s this place called the Cozy Nook. They do a great party night.”
“Cozy Nook huh?” I pull out the cash and pay her for the coffee, giving her a nice tip. “I like the name. It’s innocent but really dirty if you choose to take it that way.”
She giggles. “Yeah, I get you, totally. Anyways, check it out. They are really nice there.”
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“Thanks.” I give her a wave as I head out back to the street. It’s only early afternoon so I decide to track this place down. I work on my coffee as I punch the name into my phone, looking for directions.
It’s only a few streets away and I take my time. I love how people react to me. It enables me to label them straight away. Some just look away in fear or disgust. I laugh at those. Some catch my eye and grin. Fellow weirdos. Others seem curious and they intrigue me because they clearly have some interest and yet they show no signs of weirdness in themselves.
I have to feel sorry for them. Perhaps they can’t embrace their inner weirdo. How sad.
By the time I reach the Cozy Nook my coffee is gone, and my feet are sore. I’m hoping to see a jumping dance floor and a full bar, somewhere I can kick it until the night life starts up. When I stop out the front, I pull my phone out and check, then double check the address.
I even do a city-wide search of the business name. No other Cozy Nook, anywhere.
“What the fuck is this.” I mutter to myself.
It looks like a bookstore. A really boring one. I can’t believe my eyes. Why would that girl send me here? I’m really pissed off all of a sudden—like I should take myself back there and give her a piece of my mind.
It’s too far to walk back. I’ll just go in and take my frustration out on someone here.
When I walk inside, I’m even more freaked out. Over in the corner a woman is reading a kid’s book to a bunch of tots gathered on the carpet. She’s doing the full deal of reading the words slowly and with emphasis then turning the book around to point at the pictures and engage them.
There’s a girl doing coffee who smiles at me politely and a woman at the counter with a sharp haircut and kinda funky clothes. She’s the only one in here that looks cool.
I realize that I’m standing in the doorway staring, but I don’t give a fuck. I don’t obey rules, not real ones or the imaginary ones imposed by society.
This gorgeous woman comes out from behind a stack of books. She pauses at the coffee counter and says something to the girls there, who quickly get back to work. She must be the boss.
As she strides towards me she looks me up and down. I cross my arms and grin. Yeah, I know that battered boots, torn fishnets and a wrecked-up leather jacket aren’t the finest attire, but it’s all I’ve got for now.
“May I help you?” She says in a smooth voice. I just jump straight in.
“I heard there was a scene here. You know, a kinky one.”
Her eyes flash around the room and back to me. Her face is a tight mask of control.
“In the evenings here we entertain a slightly different crowd. If you would like to come back, then I’m sure you’ll find it more entertaining.” Her eyes go hard and her mouth sets in a line.
“However, we expect that everyone who comes to the evening activities is well behaved and discreet. Do you understand?”
“Sure, fine. Whatever.” I don’t like her tone or her expression. I just turn and go, giving her a wave.
They’re all crazier than Karen working on a new painting. Blow this place and all its boring dames.
