Human Relations

In a hurry. Pumping gas before heading to work. I glance up and see a local eccentric sitting in the gas station. He is reading a paper, while his wife sits with her back to the window, staring around the store. They are sitting at one of the booths usually occupied by old men talking and laughing together. She turns to him and I watch to see if they are talking or laughing. Her lips don't move and his eyes don't leave his paper.

So this is what he does when the coffeeshop is closed. I see him there most mornings, sitting outside at a small table, sipping his coffee and watching traffic go by. He is young, maybe mid-forties. He doesn't work. Someone told me he gets a stipend from a family member or a friend. Some days he strums his guitar but mostly he sits, stoic, watching traffic. He often sits outside of the coffee shop until late in the afternoon.

I've only met him once, at a local inn having a public jam session for amateur musicians. I was there with my musician friend and was introduced to him, though I can't recall his name. I determined from the moment I met him that he was an eccentric. Some would say that's a fancy word for weirdo. I like to call those who are far outside the fringes of society "eccentrics." They add spice to an otherwise dull town.

I remember that he didn't laugh, even when everyone around him did. He only seemed alive when he played his guitar. I saw him smile only once in relation to something he sang about.

I am at the gas pump for just a few minutes but I watch them until I'm done. I marvel at the idea that some people have to be out in public for most of their free time. Why not take the paper home and read it in a favorite chair? Why not brew your own coffee and chat with your spouse?

I can't help but wonder what goes on in their bedroom. I sense a distance between them in only that short time. They have been married less than a year. What unbearable loneliness drives a newlywed couple outside of their warm home and into a gas station?

I drive away from the station with the image of the lonely girl watching her husband read his newspaper in a gas station. The thought that presses on me is that loneliness experienced with someone else is far more profound.