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Semara pushed the glass door open in front of her and breathed in the scent of the fresh coffee beans and took in the sight of the overly caffeinated baristas. She had the lyrics from “I’ll Make a Man Out of You” from Mulan running through her head, preparing to get down to business, literally. She sighed, thinking about the hours’ worth of work ahead of her. She had just left her internship 20 minutes ago and needed to scope out a spot to do the job she actually gets paid for. She got in the slightly lengthy line behind a woman with shoulder length white hair. The Starbucks in downtown Erie served a wide array of customers. From conservative businessmen to wildly animated feminists shouting about the GOP’s plans to defund Planned Parenthood. Semara stood behind the older woman, listening to her go on and on about Senator Pat Toomey and how he was the most faxed Senator in the United States since he decided not to answer the calls of any of his constituents.
Eventually it was her turn to order, and she ordered a grande Strawberry Acai Refresher with lemonade instead of water. She waited for a few minutes listening to the bantering of the baristas and was finally handed a large clear cup with a pink liquid. “I accidentally spilled your drink everywhere, so you get a free Venti-upgrade!” the barista explained.
Semara thanked the barista profusely and then turned to the seating area of the little cafe. There was a full drink on the table beside the floor length windows, but there wasn’t anyone accompanying said drink. There were floating tables, but Semara preferred to have her back to a wall, especially since she would eventually need a plug for her laptop. There was a bar by the window, but there was only one space left and it looked sort of cramped. Eventually, Semara decided to take a table beside the table by the window and wait to see if anyone ever came to reclaim their drinks and table. While Semara was looking around, she noticed something exciting.
Semara had been at the same Starbucks the night before, but at a much later time. At around 8:30 the night before, two older men came in and sat at the table beside her. It took a few minutes to realize that the men wear wearing identical outfits. They had the same beanie hat, the same brightly colored shirt, the same soft looking pants, and the same shoes. At first, Semara had thought the two men were identical twins. But upon closer inspection in the dimly lit room, Semara realized that one man was broad and tall with a sharp jawline and an even sharper nose and the other man had slightly softer features with moles speckled all across his skin and an upturned nose. Being related wasn’t completely out of the question, but Semara had the distinct impression that their relationship was more one of romance than blood ties.
On that Friday afternoon at 2:00pm, Semara caught sight of them at the same table from the night before. And to her delight, they were wearing identical outfits again. Both men had straw sun hats perched on top of their heads, a few small braids with pins attached peaked out from beneath the smaller man’s hat. They wore bright purple shirts with pinstripes rolled up to the sleeves and brightly colored patches across their own chest pocket. Similar patches were found on their camouflage cargo shorts. They each wore brightly patterned socks, one a purple design and the other a red and orange design. But their shoes stopped her heart for a second. The smaller man got up to walk to the counter where the barista was replacing baked goods in the display case. As he was walking, Semara caught sight of his shoes. On his right foot, he was wearing a light tan loafer. On his left foot, he was wearing the same loafer but in a darker color. As quickly as she could without being obvious, Semara looked over to where the larger man was still sitting at their table, surrounded by books and notebooks and crumpled napkins. And there it was. On his left foot was a light tan loafer with a darker matching loafer on his right foot. Semara had to hold in the squeal that was threatening to escape her mouth. Semara sometimes had a tendency to be cynical in regards to love, but this display in front of her was giving her life.
The smaller man was still at the register and he turned and called back to the man still sitting at the table. “Der! Is there anything else you want other than the Pirate cake pop?”
“I swear, Stiles, if you come back to this table with another pirate cake pop I will divorce you!”
The smaller man, Stiles, apparently, turned back to the barista. “Ok, we will take two pirate cake pops and one tall Strawberries and Cream frappe for Mr. Grumpy over there.” As the barista was typing in the order, Stiles turned back around to the other man. “And don’t even deny that you want a Strawberries and Cream, Derek. Every time you see something pink your pupils dilate and you just continue to get gayer and gayer. Fifty years after coming out.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being gay. What’s wrong is being cursed with you.” The older man, Derek, grumbled. He turned to the seat beside him holding two purple shopping bags with bright flowers all over them. He pulled out a Crazy Cat Lady coloring book and a small set of colored pencils. He turned to a page that was already partially colored and dove right in with a light brown pencil, paying careful attention to the paws of one of the illustrated kittens. When Stiles came back to the table, he “accidentally” kicked Derek in the foot and made the other man grump and glare. Stiles stuck his tongue out. It made Semara’s heart happy to see how comfortable the two men were with each other, and with themselves.
Stiles pulled one of the cake pops out of the small bakery bag, eye patch and all. He danced it across the table towards Derek who pretended to ignore it, even as the pencil in his hand stopped moving. “Come on, Der. Indulge an old man?”
“I indulge you every day with these ridiculous outfits you pick out, you loon,” Derek retorted.
“You love the outfits I pick out for us.”
“I love the man who picks out the outfits, not the outfits themselves. Not the same thing.”
“Oh! I knew you loved me!”
“Did 35 years of marriage not give that away?”
“You could have changed your mind.”
“I might if you don’t stop buying cake pops. Now you don’t get a sundae from McDonalds.”
“But Derekkkkk.”
“No buts, you were always on your dad’s case about his diet. Then when we had Claudia and Talia they did the same to you. Now that they’re married and we are out here all alone, we have to watch out for each other. We’re all we got.”
Stiles looked up at Derek before tenderly grabbing his hand and holding it between his own. “If you’re all I got, I sure do got a lot.”
At that, Semara had to pack up her laptop she hadn’t even had the brains to turn on throughout the men’s entire exchange. She had to leave. She couldn’t concentrate with her ovaries exploding and there was a people’s revolution to plan.