We’re in a coffee shop, steam hissing, dishes hauled, orders called. The dude behind us dispenses advice like a pharmacist. You can almost hear the milligrams.
Our laptops touch. We’re plugged in. To the wall, to the internet, to this third cup of coffee.
And chatting online as well. It’s easier here to read than listen. Though writing is our best default in any case.
We have three cell phones on the table next to the Mexican Coke, and the cookie crumbs. Another twenty minutes and we’ll be late for something.
I have to go; she’s phoning me.
March 6th, 2010 at 11:24 am
it is ironic, isn’t it? My roommate and I often sit on the couch next to each other with our computers on our laps. it seems anti-social and rude to some people, but it’s oddly comforting to just work near someone. Shared moments, just the same.
March 7th, 2010 at 4:24 am
I send my partner an email most mornings. When I told somone about this habit, he thought it was weird, because we live together.
March 8th, 2010 at 3:17 pm
If you follow that logic to its obvious conclusion, why give your partner a card, or flowers. Why phone her? Or text her? You live with her. Why check in, or interact with her except when you’re both home together?
March 8th, 2010 at 3:39 pm
Which reminds me: It’s been far too long since I sent flowers.