unblinkered: skeptical.png (skeptical)
[personal profile] unblinkered
The man sits in the biggest chair. The coffee shop has the one oversized armchair, very cozy. Nobody takes it, of course. It's the only chair of its kind in the building, the rest of the room being full of booths and tables with ordinary wooden chairs. It must be for display purposes, right? Or, at least, it's not the sort of thing you presumptuously take for yourself.

Unless you're Maxwell Wax. If you're Maxwell Wax, you've been coming to the same coffee shop every day at the same time for a year and a half, and you've noticed that nobody else ever sits in the big comfy chair. If you're Maxwell Wax, you sit in the big comfy chair for hours and quietly watch the people come and go. If you're Maxwell Wax, you know the pimply guy at the counter doesn't have the guts to ask you to leave. If you're Maxwell Wax, you know the coffee shop has a procedure for dealing with customers who don't buy anything, so you buy the cheapest coffee they have and let the barista stew in uncertainty. If you're Maxwell Wax, you pretend to drink your coffee, then drink a little and then spit it out, because it's disgusting.

Max knows this coffee shop. It's the most predictable place in the world. It works the same way, day in and day out, no one ever doing anything unusual. He knows the regulars, not by talking to them, but by watching quietly and learning their pattern. They all have a pattern, it's not very interesting. But it makes sense, and Max can see it coming. It's relaxing. It's beautiful.

What happens to the big comfy chair in the next few moments is not something Max can see coming.


benedict, pyth

August 2014

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