Confessions From A Coffee Shop by T. B. Markinson Page A

was too much for my delicate system. My family hired maids for all of my life. For years, I would never use a toilet outside of our home. When I went to school, I had to. Then I discovered the nurse’s office had a semi-clean restroom, so I started using that one. My family gave a lot of money to my private school, so no one said a word to me about it. I feel somewhat bad about that now, because it was an abuse of my family’s money. Then again, it was either that or dash home every few hours. Or, I suppose, pee in the woods behind the school. That still seemed more appealing than using the shared restrooms. Secretly, I wished there were some trees close to this dive for me to squat behind.
    When I rejoined the group, Kat and Harold were still interrogating Samantha.
    “I thought you were planning a wedding,” said Harold.
    This piqued Kat’s interest. If it were true, Samantha might be too heart-broken to be interested in anyone for a long time?
    “What made you think that?” Samantha crinkled her nose and sipped her skunk beer. She pulled the glass away from her lips, inspecting it, before taking another slug.
    “I thought you were away on your honeymoon,” explained Harold, who still hadn’t taken his eyes off my girlfriend’s boobs. If it were anyone else, I would be irritated and would have whacked the back of his head. But it was probably the closest Harold had ever come to a naked female, so I let it slide for now.
    “Honeymoon!” Samantha chortled. “My family went to Italy for a few weeks to celebrate my parents’ thirtieth wedding anniversary.”
    “I knew it had something to do with marriage.” Harold smiled meekly.
    I wanted to kick him in the shins. He had me convinced that Samantha was married. Again, not that it mattered. My crush was in high school. Years ago. It didn’t matter now. Of course, I had also believed she was straight. Her being bisexual never crossed my mind. I still couldn’t picture Samantha eating pussy.
    “How long did you and your girlfriend date?” Kat steered the conversation back to her fact-finding mission.
    “Five years.”
    Kat stifled a gleeful smile. “Oh wow, that’s too bad. It will take a long time to get over that one.” She was laying it on thick. She put her arm around Samantha’s shoulder again, and once more Kat’s tits almost spilled out of her top.
    Harold looked like he needed CPR, but for someone who wasn’t breathing or moving, he seemed blissful enough. We needed to get this boy laid. He would probably die from happiness if that happened, but it would be a happy death, at least.
    “Not really. We’re still friends. The breakup was a long time coming, really.” Not a trace of sadness flickered in Samantha’s eyes, but I sensed a cheerless air. Was she putting on a brave face?
    After she answered a few more questions from Kat the Inquisitor, Samantha excused herself to rejoin her friends. Before leaving, she said, “See you two Monday morning.”
    When she was out of earshot, Kat asked, “Monday morning?”
    “She’s a regular at the coffee shop.” I released my grip on Kat’s waist and grabbed my beer.
    “Oh, that’s nice.” Her voice said otherwise.
    It was time for damage control. “Harold, what do you say, have you had enough for your first experience? How about we grab some grub next door?”
    He looked around smugly and said, “Sure. Not much happening here tonight.”
    I loved his act. At first, it bugged the shit out of me when he pretended he was the coolest thing ever. Oh, sorry, Mr. Kool.
    Now, I loved his bravado. It was fake, but I found it endearing. Not many men try to act suave while sporting a tan mock turtleneck sweater and black chinos.
    During a late-night snack at the Last Drop, Kat grilled Harold about Samantha. Not once did she question me, even though we went to high school together. Truth be known, Harold knew more about Samantha than I did. It was surprising how much we learned about our customers. Kat