She saw her reflection in the window. Not knowing why she sat in the playground sections of MacDonald’s. Steam from her coffee fogged the window. There in the evening neon and fluorescent light, she saw her face reflected in the window.
Noise from the climbing, squealing children like background music punctuated her scattered thoughts. She relived the heated conversation with that ‘asshole,’ over and over again. How he tossed his cup of coffee right at her in the parking lot. “Fuck him!” He’d just missed her, ruining her leather coat.
“Mutherfucker angry for who the hell knows what.” Her thoughts raced to how many ‘mutherfuckers’ like this she’d invited into her life. Over and over again, one loser blurring into another.
‘Fuck him. Fuck them all, making her feel like this.’ Her mother’s words rang in her head like a police whistle. “Ain’t nobody who can make you feel nothing without a gun in their hand…” Well, she was wrong. “You tangle up with these bastards because of the way they make you feel in the beginning, and you come to find out they way they make you feel, what they say to you – it’s a lie, it’s all a lie. This kind of man – always sneaky, no job, no-nothing mutherfucker. Why I gotta be wit this kind of man?”
She watched the ugly-ass, fat mothers of the children in MacDonald’s. These women with no makeup and thick eyebrows. They had wedding rings, children and husbands who take them to MacDonald’s on a Tuesday night.
She noticed these women weren’t anything special. She found herself looking at the men; the husbands, the dads holding their kids at MacDonald’s, not knowing they were unusually, painfully different than any man she ever knew.
She watched one man hand his wallet to his woman as his youngsters crawled all over him and he smiled, resisting their pull.
Those kinds of human beings get married, have weddings and children. They listen to each others secrets late in the evening, do their bills and laundry together, and all the exotic, unbelievable things she had never done with any of the mutherfuckers she let share her space.
These human beings were unmercifully alive with togetherness and mundane activity.
She looked away to the street.
“Mutherfucker throws coffee at me, just fucking turned around, tossed the coffee I bought right at me?”
Why was her world so different, why was she different than these ugly-ass women?
“MacDonald’s have the worst fucking coffee in the whole world. It’s like they all use the same un-washed pot and fucking tap water. Why get coffee at MacDonald’s?” She got coffee there almost every day. And she hated it. “Fuck MacDonald’s and their fucking too hot, nasty-tasting coffee.” She left her cup at the table, unfinished, got up and walked out.
“Fuck MacDonald’s. Fuck everything.”