Coffee and Lipstick

My flight arrived late. I got a taxi at the stand and gave the driver the address near 8th and W 48th.

I walked into a crowded hotel. A few minutes earlier a fire alarm sounded and the whole hotel emptied into the lobby and out onto the street. No one was being allowed upstairs. Thinking anything would be better than standing shoulder to shoulder with total strangers, I left my bags with the doorman and went outside.

The night air was warm. Nice for walking. I set out to explore some of the streets in the area. The next few days would allow a lot of time to explore and experience, but I thought why wait. This area of the city is always busy and I felt that seeing it late at night would be interesting. A different perspective perhaps.

After awhile, the long day and the flight started to catch up with me. I picked up a few things at a corner market and walked back to the hotel. I picked up my bags, checked in, and took the elevator upstairs.

The room was nice. A corner room with a comfortable bed. I turned on the television, changed my cloths and laid down on top of the bed hoping that a sound sleep would be just a few minutes away. It was not.

I laid there, awake, for the longest time. It wasn’t the sound of the television; I like a little ambient noise when I travel. No, my mind was racing. It wasn’t anything specific. My thoughts were simply all over the place and it made falling asleep difficult. Finally, after a few hours, I drifted to sleep. But only for a few hours. My mind fixed on something and I was awake again.

It was no use trying to fight it. I got up, pulled on my jeans and a tee shirt and went downstairs. I found my way to the restaurant. It was a French restaurant so I knew the coffee would be good. I took a table next to a window and ordered coffee and a basket of breakfast breads. 

I took out my journal and started to write; nothing important, just random thoughts. Mine is not a great journal but it serves my purpose. It reminds me of things. Things I am doing, have done or wish to do. I must have been deep in my thoughts when I was startled by the sound of a chair being dragged across the floor.

I looked up and saw a lady. She looked at me and without saying a word, she hung her  bag across the back of the chair and sat down across from me. She motioned for the waiter and ordered coffee. Nothing else.

She was an attractive woman, not what I’d call beautiful, but not simply cute. She wore her hair straight and cut just above the shoulder. Her makeup was simple and complimented her complexion. She wore jeans, a white blouse and a short jacket.

We sat there in silence, me writing and she waiting.

A few minutes later the waiter arrived with her coffee. He refreshed my cup and then left.

She raised her cup and made a motion as if to say, “to your health.” I closed my book and returned the gesture. She bent her lips down to the cup and took a single sip, leaving a lipstick stain on the rim. She placed the cup on the saucer and laid a five dollar bill on the table beside it. Then, without saying a word she stood up and walked out the door.

Outside, she paused and looked in the window. She looked at me. She looked at the nearly full coffee cup. Then looking back at me, she smiled, turned and started down the sidewalk.

I set there, still in silence, wondering who she was. Where did she come from? Where is she going? What are her hopes; her dreams? And why a single sip of coffee? These are questions that I’ll never be able to answer. Trying to is only a game. 

Whoever she is, she left me with three things. Mystery, coffee and lipstick.

I took a sip of my coffee, opened my book and started writing again.