Coffee shop loudmouth: a poem

Inspired by actual events as I try to find creative places to work. Every coffee shop seems to have one of these people.

In the coffee shop local I sit and I read

I think I will stay here as long as I need.

The outlet provides my laptop with power,

The free refills will def'nitely keep me for hours.

The manager glares—I the small-spending jerk

Who dares use his tables as somewhere to work.

But what can he do? I paid for this cup

And I see no reason why my time should be up.

Then in walks a man with an arrogant swagger,

His fleece vest and haircut mark him as a bragger.

He flashes his latest technology toys

As he orders organic something—half-fat, with soy.

 

On getting his drink, he scans ‘round the place

To find someone needing his remarkable taste.

I try not to look up, I try to be hidden,

It seems as though it’s for me he’s been bidden 

In slow motion, in my peripheral sight

I see the man spot me, his eyes go alight.

Most tables are empty, but it doesn’t matter

For far away how could I hear his wise chatter?

My schooled indiff’rence seems an invitation

To sit near and give me a grand education.

No question is asked, but still he answers

Already he intrudes like some kind of cancer. 

“Whatever you think you know, I know much more!

I understand all things right down to the core.

I’ll show you the depths of my expertise,

I’ll do all the talking—no arguing, please!”

He speaks long of politics—foreign, domestic

Economics, technology—it seems he’s eclectic.

“What do you think? Well, I disagree!

The one with the best opinion is me!

In all of this world I’ve yet to find

An intellect as impressive as mine.”

He slouches confidently back in his chair

His smirk says, “Disagree if you dare!”

 

Louder he gets as he tells me his thoughts

On government lies, aliens, killer bots!

He lectures on stock markets, he lectures on culture.

He eats my time like some cologne-wearing vulture.

Yes, he clearly sees me as some kind of food,

But I can’t escape him without seeming rude.

 

Then—lucky me!—comes something distractive:

A girl half his age; he finds her attractive.

 

She sits far away,

Does not look his way.

And as he endeavors

To say something clever

She won’t even give him the time of the day.

 

His attention’s diverted!

My plight is converted!

I grab my belongings and thank God that he flirted.

 

He turns back around and sees his mistake

I mention another commitment (it’s fake)

He offers his regal hand and we shake

And then I flee through the door

 

“Well done, sir!” cries the manager, happy.

“Your obnoxiousness rid us of that cheapfaced chappy!

Thank you for coming here on such short notice

When clearing that table seemed utterly hopeless.

Here’s your usual pay—I hope it’s sufficient

I gave you some extra for being efficient.”

 

Now maybe it’s a figment of my ‘magination

But I’ve seen more than just one demonstration

That coffee shops will likely pay a small fee

To rid themselves of small spenders like me.