Sunday, April 20, 2008

Starbucks, Quiet Man?

The next day I called Fred at about 3 pm. I had just read the follow up story about him in the paper. Not so good. Looked like a supposed ally threw him under the bus. Well at least to me. And every other rational thinking person.

He was down in the dumps. He had to get off the phone to put through a credit card order he was taking at the time.

I rang Quiet Man about the article. He did not answer. I rang him a bit later and he picked up.


“Hi Quiet Man,” I said cheerily to throw him off since I usually am pretty dour with him.

I also wanted to act as if the night before did not happen, though I was reeling from his behavior with me.

“Are you busy?”

“Ah, yes Muse, I busy now.”

He was with a customer or something. He told me he was going to see Fred around 4 pm. I told him I would see him there when I was done.

I ran around to finish what work I needed to do that day at a minimum since I was so unfocused thinking about the night with Quiet Man.

I was high strung and unable to concentrate. I did not have much sleep nor restful sleep. My mind was racing going over and over what happened between us.

He kissed me. I could not believe it. He was married I told myself. He is married. I could still feel him when he grabbed me and placed me between his legs. Racing through my mind was the excitement of his being attracted to me and the worry of that this is a married man. I was high strung which is unlike me. I could not stop thinking about him or the night before.

What on earth did Ricky think? I did not know. I do not even remember seeing his reaction. I know Ricky would just keep things to himself. He is very loyal to Quiet Man. I do not believe he would do anything to hurt me.

So I make my way to Fred’s after I finished for the day.

I walk in and he greets me from the back door and motions me in.

Poor Fred. He seemed stressed.

I walked into the office knowing Quiet Man was already there. My heat raced.

I looked at him sitting in his usual chair in Fred’s office. He looked tired to me as well. He was wearing the same damned clothes. Eew, was what I thought. Then I noticed that Fred was as well, or at least the same shirt. He had on a silk royal blue shirt the day before and it was the same one he had now. I don’t get this wearing the same clothes two days in a row.

“Sit Muse, sit,” motioned Quiet Man.

He still made my heart jump.

We chatted for a while and Fred was all crazy because he had to pick up his rental SUV or whatever it was for his trip with his family. He was worried about his mom who fell and broke her hip while she was with her other son. She lives with Fred, but went to his brother’s because she could not go on the trip. Fred was freaked out that the first time in 16 years his mother is not in his house and she breaks her hip. He was going to cancel his trip but his girls got very upset. Quiet Man told him she would be in a hospital in the city, so what would he be doing anyway? He might as well enjoy himself.

On top of that we were there to discuss the paper and his getting thrown under the bus.

He seemed not so pre-occupied by it, though.

“So, what you think, Muse?” he asked me.

“I think he threw you under the bus.”

“No, he did not. I don’t think so. You think so Quiet Man?”

“Muse is right.”

And after a while, Fred decided he was thrown under the bus and became angered when his ego realized it. He was mad, but had to forget about it because he had to make the rental place for his trip.

So we rise and he locks up his store. I was standing on the sidewalk with Quiet Man. He towers over me and makes me feel safe. He has this manner about him that is assured, macho and strong. People do not know how to take him, his first impression is that strong. You get the feeling he is so standoffish that you do not get near.

Quiet Man was going to drive Fred to get the rental vehicle. He looks down at me and I ask him if he was free after he helps Fred. He looked tired to me. He was free and agreed to call me when he was done. I asked him if he got any sleep the night before.

“What you say, Muse?” he told me, “We only have couple of drinks.”

“What? You had more than a couple!”

“It was nothing, Muse. Just a couple of drinks, nothing big.”

I guess liquor does not affect him so much.

“I come to work at 8 am I buy paper and I go to see why they say that about Fred, but no one was at office.”

“Wait, you were here in town at 8 am? I got home at 4 am. What, you had three hours sleep at most?”

“No Muse, I am fine.”

Well he looked tired to me. We got in our cars and filed out into the street. Fred was first, driving like a mad man and Quiet Man was behind me driving like a turtle.

At the intersection for me to turn to go home, Quiet Man was in the second lane next to me. Feeling giddy, he was looking at me, smiling. I honk my horn and roll the passenger window down. I had stuck my tongue out at him like a teenager.

“Hi Muse,” he said.

“Hi Quiet Man,” I replied, “You are going to call me later, right?”

“Yes, I call you Muse.”

And then the traffic moved and we waved goodbye.

The night went on and I did not hear from him. I figured he probably was so exhausted or some ridiculous thing was going on with Fred, as usual. Fred was supposed to leave on his trip at 7 pm.

The next day I did some work from home and I called Ricky. He is always happy to hear from me.

“Hi Love!” I hear on the other end of my cell phone, “So did you recuperate or what?”

“OMG, I am still so TIRED Ricky!” I said.

“Well, I got home and was up at work at 7:30 am and worked all day.”

Geez, I began to think I must be weird. I was so tired. I can’t function without sleep. Or a restful sleep.

Ricky was with his Dad and said he would call me later on.

During the conversation with Ricky, Quiet Man calls.

I did not answer but called him after I hung up with Ricky.

He did not answer, so I paged him and left him a curt message about calling me two seconds before and not answering the phone.

He rang within a couple of minutes. I was still sitting in my driveway.

I was happy to hear his voice. I did not even ask him what happened the night before. I got the impression he was just exhausted. I am not one to nag a man if I am not in a good position to do it-so little things like this in light of the big picture does not merit from me any complaining.

Quiet Man wanted to meet me for coffee. Sure, was my answer. I was talking to him while driving to my office and I joked with him. I was going to lose the cell signal and we did a bunch of can you hear me? When I could not hear him, he heard me; and when I could hear him, he was losing me.

“I lose you Muse!” he said.

When he heard me, he would say, “I get you Muse.”

“You get me?”

“Yes, I get you.”

“Now I don’t get you,” he said.

“Well catch me, then Quiet Man.”

I laughed. He cracked up.

“I will catch you Muse!”

“Oh you will, won’t you?” I teased him.

“Yes!” he said laughing, “I will catch you.”

So we decided to meet at Starbucks. I told him I was going to get my DD and drink it in Starbucks.

“You no do that Muse,” he chided.

“Why? I do it all the time. I don’t like that burnt coffee taste.”

“No Muse.”

“Since when do you care what anyone thinks?”

“You know I no care what anyone thinks.”

“So what is the problem now?”

It did not matter, he was not budging, so I agreed to go to Starbucks without a DD coffee.

I waited for him unusually long for a two minute ride. He got out of his Lexus and looked so dashing. It was a beautifully warm and sunny morning. He was clean shaven, his hair glistened like black diamonds in the sun and was dressed very nicely. I was impressed. He also looked well rested.

He walked towards me and he led me to Starbucks. I was a bit annoyed since I don’t like Starbucks coffee and he likes their latte. So in dire need of caffeine that I was not going to get, I reached into the cooler and pulled out an orange Izzi that is really called Clementine.

We get our drinks and we sit on the cushy chairs. He likes those chairs. I feel like they swallow you and you have to practically yell to speak to the person you are with and more often than not, I am sitting on the edge of the chair which gets uncomfortable after a while.

We sat with our drinks and we looked at each other. I studied his handsome face. My hair was still very wet that I wrapped it to sit along my neck down my chest. I was worried about what I looked like since wet hair does what it wants. I was getting self conscious about it that all I ended up doing was playing with my hair, wrapping and re-wrapping it. He did not seem to notice or mind. He was also looking directly into my eyes. I did have the Dior pink lipstick slathered on again.

“Last night, Freddy no leave until 11 pm.”

“OMG, are you kidding?”

“No, I no kid Muse,” he replied.

Fred had taken a nap and was up at 11 pm and decided to start his trip with his family and friends of his kids at 11 pm.

He was not more than an hour or hour and a half from home and at 1 am, since he was speeding at 90 mph, he somehow ripped up a tire and almost lost control of the car and saved himself from killing everyone.

“He drives like a maniac,” I commented.

“He drive fast. He no know how to drive, he never did.”

What Quiet Man meant was that Fred never drove any kind of long distance and did not know how to manage such a long, arduous trip. He decided to drive because to fly everyone would cost over $10,000.00 for such a short flight, along with a host of other problems that only would apply to Fred.

Quiet Man the Aquarian is never long without someone calling him. His cell phone kept ringing. He spoke to his wife then to his daughter. He tells me what he spoke about with them, since he spoke in his native tongue. I am able to catch the jist of some words, not knowing his language, enough to know he was telling the truth. He then spoke to some customer friends.

In between we tried to chat. We did more staring at each other than talking. I was surprised at myself that I was not cringing looking at him knowing his behavior of the night prior. Apparently my non reaction to him was not enough for him to not want to see me again. He must have some ego, larger than what I have noticed so far.

After a call, he tells me it is someone I know. He has to go to his office and would be back.

“Muse, I so sorry. I was late coming to meet you because he called and said he wanted to come and pick up papers.”


“So and So. You know him.”

“Oh, him. He is annoying.”

“It is business Muse.”

“I know, but for me it is not and I can say what I want.”

“Of course, Muse. You are right.”

He laughed because he knows I find this person distasteful. He is an old man and he swings. I can’t get into how I know that about him, but to see him, you are surprised that he can stand up by himself.

“I will be back soon Muse. You stay here, I will return quickly.”

“OK, you are coming back, right?” I doubted him for a split second.

“Yes. I come back.”

So I watch him rush out. I was sitting by myself. He left his coffee cup. I picked it up. It was still half full. He would come back I then thought.

I put on my sunglasses to look outside where it was bright. I was wearing an odd outfit. A battleship grey long sleeved shirt with a round neck at the base of my neck. It was pretty loose. I had it paired with a royal blue pair of yoga slacks that had slits on the sides that where about four inches long, exposing my ankles when I walked. I was wearing a pair of bright orange BCBG mules with a two inch black heel.

I was swinging my shoes as I sat crossed legged. I was barefooted in the mules. A woman came up to me and admired my shoes. I thanked her.

After a while, I see Quiet Man rushing into Starbucks. I act as if I did not watch him arrive.

He smiles at me broadly as he resumed his seat. He sighed. He did rush to return to me.

His phone starts ringing again. When he was done, I complained.

“Every time we try to talk together, we are interrupted by someone dropping in or calling. I find it annoying.”

“What you do Muse?” he pondered. He meant what could he do about it. Nothing much, I knew, but I still wanted to lodge my displeasure.

He told me some funny stories. I particularly liked the one about his almost octogenarian customer-friend who he takes to the strip club I guess as a business thank you or something like that. These old men go crazy for these girls who ripped them off. One spent FORTY THOUSAND DOLLARS, yes you read that right, $40,000.00 on one girl or giurrl. Quiet Man asked him why he did that when he did not even get any sex out of it? I could not stop laughing. What an idiot.

Another decided he needed Viagra. A magnum of Viagra as Quiet Man told the story. This aging man, who apparently was very wealthy, took a magnum of Viagra one night and called Quiet Man at home very late at night. He had to talk to Quiet Man. He was worried about the Viagra kicking in since he had heart trouble. It was not working, even after taking a magnum of it.

“You are kidding right? These men call you with their Viagra problems and why they are not getting an erection?”

“Yes, Muse,” he manages to get out while laughing.

Oh, these people are sick.

The phone rings again. He looks at his caller ID and rolls his eyes. It was Dane.

“Let me answer!” I pleaded. “I want to goof on him.”

“Hello,” I said.

I hear nothing.

“Hello!” I repeated.

Nothing. We looked at each other and tried not to laugh.

I hear Dane’s tiny soft voice, “Hello?” he said weakly, confused about who he called.

“Who is this?” I teasingly demanded.

“This is Dane,” he answered, the dope.

“Who is this with the beautiful voice?” he asked.

“Who do you think it is?”

“Oh, Muse, I would recognize your voice anywhere!”

My voice is pretty deep and sultry most times, but I would not call it beautiful.

Quiet Man rises to use the men’s room.

I told Dane I was with Quiet Man and wanted to tease him by answering his phone. Dane just got a “new” antique car and was calling Quiet Man to pick him up and go for lunch.

“Muse, I will pick you both up and buy you both lunch, do you want to do that?”

I did not know what to answer, knowing Quiet Man had to go and pick up his daughter. I only knew he was meeting a friend at 8 pm.

When Quiet Man returned, I gave him back his phone.

“No, Dane, I am sorry. I pick up my daughter. Yes, I be at club tonight at about ten THIURTY,” he says.

Hmmm, the club. Earlier I mentioned what was the fascination with the club. He said it is a part of business, something for the men to go and enjoy. I understand this, but I did not totally believe him either.

After a while, we rise to leave. He wanted me to walk across the way with him to the bank.

The sun was bright and shone down on us. I loved walking with him, being near him.

We get into the Bank and he is as gallant with me as he always is: holds the door, is attentive to me, acknowledges me and just makes me feel good all around.

We are then waiting on the road edge to cross. We get back to Starbucks to talk to the UPS man who just happened to have his package. He sent it back because it was the wrong item.

We started to walk towards our cars. He had to go and bring his daughter back from school. It was awkward saying goodbye since we both just stood together, seemingly difficult to part.

He put his arm around my waist. He was standing close to me so that I almost fit under his shoulder. I put my arm around his waist as we laughed and walked towards the parking.

He stood for a while in the sun with me. He looked down and arranged my hair that had been moved by the strong spring breeze. That small, kind gesture spoke volumes. It was the second time he has arranged my hair for me. To his liking, probably. It was very loving and sweet.

“OK, Muse,” he said and startled me at its abruptness, “I keep in touch with you, OK? I see you.”

Keep in touch with me? What was this, a parting of long duration? It sounded so odd. His abruptness was odd, but it is something he does on occasion. It seems as if he is forcing himself to leave and does it in this manner.

“OK, Quiet Man. I am not keeping you.”

He got into his Lexus while he watched me stand there. He smiled and I smiled back.

I go back to my office. I was fidgety again. I could not do much work. I decided to call Dane. I had heard from another friend who was supposed to help Dane with something. Dane mentioned earlier that he never got a returned call. It was because he was busy. We made plans for him to come and pick me up in his new convertible. I was going to show him how to use his new digital camera he is going to use on his two week European tour. He was going to call me when he was on his way so I would not have to wait for him to arrive.

So, being full of some weird energy, spurring the need to converse, I call Ricky.

“Hello Ricky,” I imitated Quiet Man’s pronunciation of his name.

“Oh, Muse, hello Love,” he says pleasantly.

We chatted for about an hour until Dane called me.

I could not help but ask him about Quiet Man and the night before. I could not help but ask him and besides, I felt safe asking him, for I do not believe he would betray my trust.

He saw what happened. He was hesitant to explain what he saw. His explanation was that Quiet Man was showing me in his way he cared about me. I was playing Devil’s Advocate and not telling him what I actually thought. It was also not the first time that Ricky explained that in their culture, “cheating” on their wives was not uncommon or looked down upon or something crazy like that. It does not mean they do not love their wives, he explains. I never understand this when he tells me. So I left it at that. I had to go and meet Dane.

I pull into the parking lot of the plaza on a hill overlooking the highway. I sit on the edge of the cement edge next to my vehicle. In a short while, I see this monstrosity of a convertible in the distance. I knew instantly it was Dane.

He pulls up, I jump in and kiss him hello on his cheek. He was trying to get a kiss on the lips, not a gross one, but a somewhat closed, friendly kiss on his lips.

He got himself a DD and we were off. We headed towards the next state and he wanted to keep going. We ended up driving very close to Quiet Man’s home. Dane was not sure exactly where it was and I told him I was not going to get into that with him, where the house was.

So we head back, pass a lake and see an Inn over looking the water. We pull in and the car faces the lake. Dane was wishing for something to be open on the water. There is only one restaurant on the water and it was not going to be open until April 26, said the sign I reminded him.

We watched the wedding for a while, I showed him how to use his camera without the benefit of the manual and he wanted to walk out towards the water. We returned to the car and I wanted him to call Quiet Man and goof on him to tell him where were where.

“Let’s goof on him. We will tell him we are here at the Inn and decided to elope and get married, because we were watching a wedding here today to inspire us, or something stupid like that,” I told him.

Dane did not bite. In fact, he relishes taking me out I have surmised. Quiet Man told me when I first met Dane that Dane does stuff like that to Quiet Man. He will go behind his back and talk directly to someone about business that Quiet Man knows and does business with as well. Quiet Man does not get mad at that he said, “It’s just Dane,” is his explanation, “He is old man, what I care? He is like that.”

So Dane is Dane. He did not want to joke around with Quiet Man.

So we continue on, sit by the edge of the lake at another point, and then he drops me off.

I bid him farewell and wished him a fun time at the club.

“You want to go to the club, Muse?”

“No I don’t Dane.”

“You went before,” he said.

“Yes, because you said Quiet Man and Ricky where going to show up, but they did not,” not wanting to tell him he tricked me.

“I treated you like a gentleman, didn’t I Muse?”

“Yes, you did Dane.”

“You stayed almost to the end that night, Muse,” he rationalized.

“Ah, because you were my ride, Dane.”

He stopped trying to convince me. He likes going to the club to see the beautiful girls he told me during our ride. I told him, no, he likes to see naked girls and the girls I saw at the club where ugly, not beautiful.

I don’t understand this with these men and wanting me to go with them to a strip club. I will never figure it out at all.

And with that, I jumped out of his gigantic convertible and went to work out at the gym.

1 comment:

Glamourpuss said...

Quiet Man really like you, eh?

Poor guy. Sounds like he can't control it.