This exact same scenario had occurred every day over the past three weeks. What’s she see in him? Ben wondered.
The man appeared to be a shy scarecrow, similar to the character in that old movie Ben’s girlfriend, Liz, made him watch. What was it called? Oh yeah, Wizard of Oz. Liz called the movie a classic. He called it booorrriing. But Liz cuddled with him on Ben’s soft brown couch as they watched the old (old) movie, so who was he to complain?
As the couple approached a table, the scarecrow man pulled out a chair for the woman, like guys used to do in old movies. She sat, primly, knees together. Ben’s co-worker brought the order to the table, and the woman sipped her hot chocolate as if it was bourbon on ice.
Ben shook his head. Oh no, did that really just happen? The scarecrow placed his hand on the table, and the lady placed her hand on top of his. Yuck! Who did they think they were? Teenagers?
Ben went back to his work, filling orders for three cappuccinos, two coffees, a Masala chai, a caffe mocha, and two Frappuccinos. But then he looked up at just the wrong time.
WHAT! He was so disgusted that he wondered if he should kick the couple out. But these days, with everything so P.C., he’d probably get in trouble. But what would the customers think? Ben swiveled his head from side to side. No one else seemed to notice, but how could anyone not see this. . . . this . . . abomination?
The kiss lasted a long time, at least Ben thought so. But the lady leaned back in her chair afterwards with a crooked smile. The man leaned toward her and placed his hand on her face, which had more wrinkles than Ben could count. Both of them had to be at least 70. They were as old as his grandparents, for cripe’s sake.
Ben returned to the iced white chocolate mocha he was making. What was this world coming to, he wondered. Old people, in love.
He whipped out his phone quickly, hoping his boss didn’t see him. “Hey Liz, any other old movie you want to watch tonight?” he texted.