Last night I worked closing shift in the cafe part of the bookstore where I work. There was this guy. He first came into the cafe when I was standing at the counter, waiting for someone to appear. He walked towards the counter, then stopped, turned around, and sat at the far table. He was pretty scruffy; beard, slightly-unkempt hair, Indiana-Jones-ish black hat that looked to have safety pins stuck into it. But this scruffy-ness seemed more like a fashion he was intending to portray than just not caring. WARNING FLAG! this guy is a show-off

Adi later had me take down the greeter table and, when I had it cleared off, I carried the table back to the cafe. The only open space for it was in the center, next to where he was sitting. He kinda leaned back in his seat, watching. “Looks like you’re having lots of fun” he said. WARNING FLAG! this guy would rather watch than help, not that I needed help

I shrugged. “Gives me something to do. Pretty slow right now.” Then I returned to my spot at the counter.

A little bit later he came up, bought a bottle of Coke, and started talking. Where do you go to school? (Me, FAU; Him, going back soon) What do you study? (Me, Elementary Ed; Him, plans on dental) How much longer do you have to go? (Me, 1.5 years; Him, haven’t even started yet). Blah blah blah stuff like that.

He kept fidgeting with a tattoo on his right arm: looking at it, rubbing it, making little noises like it hurt. He wanted me to notice it. So I took his bait. “You ok?” I asked, referencing the pain-like noises. WARNING FLAG! this guy is a show-off

“Yeah,” he replied, shaking it off. Y’know: acting out the part of the tough guy that should be swooned over for having the balls/strength to get a tattoo. “New tattoo; it itches.”

I nodded. “Put lotion on it and it’ll stop.”

“I know,” he said. “I have some. But right now I’m talking to you.” I internally rolled my eyes. WARNING FLAG! this guy is a smooth-talker

“Do you have any others?” I asked.

“Nah. This is the first.”

I nodded. “I have two. Planning the third.”

“What are they?” he asked.

“Text right here,” I said, motioning to my right hip. “Music notes here,” I said, reaching around to my back. I shrugged. “Put them in places easily hidden since I’m gonna be a teacher and all.”

He nodded. “I always thought that defeated the point. If I get a tattoo, I want to be able to show it off. That’s why I got it on me arm.” WARNING FLAG! this guy is a show-off

“I got mine for me. They’re places easily hidden but if I want to show someone, easy to show. Basically, if I want someone to know about them, they will. If I don’t, they won’t.”

“Can I see them?” He smiled coyly. WARNING FLAG! this guy is a smooth-talker

I smiled back fake-sweetly. “Don’t know you well enough for that.”

He nodded. “We’ll have to fix that.” I internally rolled my eyes again. WARNING FLAG! this guy is a smooth-talker

“My friend actually gave me this for my birthday. ‘Twas two days ago,” he said.

“Happy late birthday,” I said. He smiled. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-five. You?”

“Twenty-one,” I replied.

He nodded. “That’s good. Better than me talking to you this whole time and you being seventeen or something. Though I figured you weren’t seeing how you’re almost through university.”

I nodded, not knowing what to say.

“My friend actually got it really cheap. She knows the tattoo artist so he did it for less. Not that it mattered to me; not my money. I like spending other people’s money.”

“So you’re a saver, not a spender?” I asked.

“No, actually I’m pretty frivilous. I spend most of my money. Though, usually on other people,” he said, smiling. ‘So, he wants to bribe me into being his girlfriend’ I thought. WARNING FLAG! this guy is a show-off WARNING FLAG! this guy is wastes money

“I’m a saver,” I replied.

“To be honest, this’ll be my last tattoo,” he said. He leaned in as if in confidence. “I screamed like a baby for this one.”

“Really? I’ve heard on-bone ones are the worst. Both of mine hit bone and it only stung a bit.”

“Guess I’m just a sensitive guy. I’ve heard the girls like that you know,” he responded. WARNING FLAG! this guy is a smooth-talker

“Emotionally, yes, sometimes. Physically…” I left that one hanging.

“So, when you teach, do you plan on staying down here?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Nah. Don’t like it here as much. I grew up in a really small country town and I like that better.”

He nodded. “I grew up down here so ’tis what I’m used to.”

“Really? I mean, with that accent and all” I asked. I guess I forgot to mention it but he had this accent that went in and out (sometimes it was there, sometimes it wasn’t) that hinted of Irish. He also used “me” instead of “my”, “’tis” instead of “it is”, and “a wee bit” though I haven’t figured out where to put it in this dialogue.

“‘Tis fake” he replied. “I like to mess with people. Been doin’ it for a few years now. Need to work on it though. It’s like this mix of Irish, Scottish, and Australian so I just say I’m from New Zealand.” He laughed. “I used to work at Home Depot and this lady came in. I helped her for about thirty minutes, accent on. She asked where I was from. I told her it was fake and she was shocked; couldn’t believe it. Then this other lady came in and I told her I was from New Zealand and she asked ‘Really? What island; north or south? I’ve been there three times!’ And I had no clue.” WARNING FLAG! this guy is a practiced LIAR

“Didn’t know there were two islands?” I asked, thinking of Rilla. He shook his head.

I leaned in and whispered “That’s whatcha get for lying.”

He nodded. “But I told you the truth.” That made me think of Josh. WARNING FLAG! this guy is a smooth-talker

“Oh, by the way, my name is Alfred. Unlike you, I don’t have a nametag.”

I nodded.

“Well, I’ve got to be on me way. But I don’t think I’ll be leaving without your number.” WARNING FLAG! this guy is a smooth-talker

I smiled, fake-sweetly. “I’m actually with someone and very happy.” I wanted to say that the one I’m with is the most amazing guy in the world, but thought that’d be too much.

“Well, you could’ve told me that earlier!” he responded. I shrugged. Then he left.

When thinking back, why say anything earlier? Michael didn’t fit easily into the conversation anywhere. And business was dead so this guy was actually providing me with entertainment. And, now, blogging material.