The Table By the Window

I walk in the most quintessential, perfect coffee shop in my little corner of the universe. It’s a chilly autumn day, I order a cup of warm coffee and take a seat near the back. There’s a woman in the corner working on her ipad, two friends chatting over coffee and bagels and then there’s the man sitting at the table next to me. I look over…and there he is, reading his Bible crying like an infant. Now, my first thought is, “let me crawl under this table, curl in up in the fetal position and weep over the fact  that there are Godly people in this world who are touched by the Word.” I did not, but obviously, I was somewhat touched. It isn’t until he starts blowing his nose on his shirt and then wiping his eyes with that same sleeve that I start to get a little uncomfortable. He grabs his Bible and scoops up his bag and quickly leaves. Part of me is left thinking, “Hmm maybe I should’ve said something.”

Less than five minutes later, two women sit down at the table in which the weeping man just ran from. They sit across from each other and they are speaking in Spanish. Maybe five minutes into the conversation, one woman stands, pulls a chair to the other side of the table and sits directly next to the woman and they begin having a conversation. I’m wondering if this is a cultural thing I don’t know about, to sit on the same side of the table? Anyway, two seconds later the first woman breaks down into a full on weep. I am not kidding, a snot flying, boo-hoo weep. Granted, they are still speaking in Spanish so I have NO idea what is happening, but I’m starting to wonder if I should check to see if someone taped onions underneath the table or if i’m in some kind of weird alternate world where everyone cries at the table by the window. I think that could be a really good spiritual book about how everyone who sits at “The Table By The Window” starts to weep uncontrollably.

I’m not sure what’s more disturbing; that everyone who sits there ends up crying, that I myself have cried at that exact same table before or that the woman who pulled up the chair is literally sitting on top of the weeping woman and is just staring at her. Like, should I get her a tissue? Should I yell “Hola?” (the only spanish word I know).  I don’t know the protocol for this. Is she weeping over the shoes that the woman sitting on top of her is wearing? Because they truly are weep worthy. Are they running lines for a Spanish Soap Opera?

Weep with those who weep, isn’t that a scripture? Should I weep right now? Should I go to my car and pull out the weep towel (yes, I have such a thing) and share with those in need? Should I inform her that this is not the arctic and there’s no need to wear a coat indoors that would house a family of five? Should I sit on top of the woman sitting on top of her? Will that convey my care for her? I feel really helpless right now. She is blowing her nose on napkins. Those will make your nose raw…doesn’t she know? That’s why I keep the weep towel. She must be an amateur weeper. Maybe I should give her my expert opinion.

You have this hope, when you leave your hometown that all the crazy experiences are behind you and that you get to start afresh with a life filled with normalcy. Day one of being out in public and I’m encountering this. Poor thing, is still going strong, still pouring buckets. And it makes me wonder, what brings people to the coffee shop to weep? Don’t people appreciate having privacy when blowing snot out of their nose or releasing deafening sobs? I am a weeper, but I usually want to do it in the comfort of my own car, weep towel in hand, no one to stare at the explosion of emotion and definitely without a woman with a poor taste in shoes sitting on top of me. Then again, the weeping woman is wearing shoes with furry pom-poms so maybe she’s weeping over her own shoes. It’s all uncertain, but as I continue letting the mystery of this moment of unfold, I will be sure to document any climatic moments. I may just have to stay a little longer and see if the next person to sit at this table breaks down. No worries all you readers, this blogger is back and I’m sure to keep coming here to see what else I encounter.

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