Camino Coffee in Gilroy

I heard a story from a dude recently about his wife of 41 years. It was at a coffee shop near the train station downtown. He said that she loved soft serve ice cream so much that he bought her a self serve ice cream machine for their house so she can have it whenever she likes. He’d told us that if he could go anywhere, he’d go to Antartica and his wife had remarked, sure you will love that because I won’t be there. We all laughed. She was sitting next to him when he told us about the self serve machine, beaming. It was softly indignant. Cutest shit. He faced her, as he should, and she was sat facing the rest of us, center stage. For a smooth 30 seconds, I was jealous. Not of anything that I could do anything about if I tried, though and mate, I have tried. Then I remembered she probably gave up a whole lot to get that ice cream machine, nothing is ever truly free, everything costs. It’s a fun story for them to tell now but after 41 years, can you even imagine? She probably deserves diamonds. Earlier she had called me a wild child.I was telling a story about wanting to be a cult leader because, you know, I’m cool. Anyway, 3 minutes after I had spoken she told me that she liked me. It wasn’t even mean girl I like you it was more like you’re fun in a way I can’t be fun and knowing you makes me that fun, kind of liked me but honestly, I think that about literally everyone. I could be wrong. And I’ll just bet that there is something about me too that for 30 seconds she was jealous of and I have no doubt she remembered the cost. We carried the table I will admit, and well. Women tend to know these things. Her husband was fine though, even into his 60’s, as the British kids might say, “well fit”. He didn’t shy away from it, which made it better because he looked like the type that might not have realized he was fairly good looking until after he met his wife. They were very fictional TV family in appearance actually which was also quite adorable, but the kind that probably have some underground heroin connections or horse breeders on speed dial type. I’ve been exposed to too much to think otherwise. 41 years. Fuck. I was literally 9 when she snatched him. He showed me photos of a raccoon his son caught on camera outside their house in Washington. Bless his heart. I went to the local Cardenas after I left them and got a bottle of cheap Chardonnay and came home, lit a joint, turned on Marvel Zombies, Episode 1 with Peach Pit’s Alrighty Aphrodite playing in the background, vanilla candle wax holding up an incense stick made of sandalwood, lit and blowing the aroma toward the window, in front of my laptop, writing this right now. Calm as Hindu Cows. Favorite vibrator on the charger. All is well. And I hope whoever reads it, is feeling like they can learn things from stories, and use what they learned to cope or improve their own condition. Or just relish being a human for a second, which is a worthy goal on it’s own. I’m content. What has that taught you, hmm? What has it taught me?