TAKE FIVE

I took five at Take Five.
They said where and when the meeting would be and I was there, then, and couldn’t find it, like it’s my fault the jeans don’t fit.
‘Are you here for the meeting?’ I asked a man’d been talking to a woman about where it might be.
He looked at me as if I’d offered him a blow job and got it horribly wrong. ‘No,’ he said, shook his head, backed off, joined the woman and they walked out the Canteen together.
I looked out from the steps of Hamilton House, there was no one form last time we’d met that I could see so I went next door to Take Five and took five with a coffee.
‘I’ll bring it out to you,’ he said, the man behind the counter serving when I said after paying I’d be outside. ‘In a mug,’ he said.
‘Thanks,’ I said waving before taking the front door out to a table and a seat from where I could see two women sat talking outside Zazu’s.
What do they think when they see me here? Anything? Nothing at all? Not even, ‘There’s a lonely man.’