The lone motorist sat at his table surfing or typing with his handheld electronic device. A few minutes prior, he looked over towards his left to a table occupying a pair of talkative young women. He noted, with his eyes, the young woman with dirty blonde hair, freckles, black yoga pants, and a gray tank top with a neon orange sports bra beneath it. He has a book with him, but for whatever reason has yet to read it. Perhaps he is texting a friend, or mingling on Facebook. (I saw him at Mocha’s yesterday, as well). From his table, there, he just looked back at me from behind his left shoulder. It is probably odd that I’m observing people so closely.
Oh well, it shall continue.
His hair is black and fluffy, like a freshly groomed black poodle. I cannot tell whether he hasn’t shaved yet, or if he is trying to grow a beard.
He would look better without the facial hair.
I can tell he is single by the way he is in here. He looks around, as if to wonder who he might see. Or perhaps he has a significant other and not the self-control to publicly admit it. Perhaps he is lonely but wishes others not to perceive it.
He sips his drink, glances to the right, and sets his view back down. He stands up from his seat, walks to his right, grabs something, and sits back down to read his book.
Finally, the moment has arrived.
I wonder what he is reading.
I wonder if he is a student. If he is here at this hour, he most likely does not have a full time job. Perhaps he is a student and is trying to fill his extra time with hobbies. Hobbies like coming to a coffee shop and reading and looking around. I can tell he has a very active mind. He gets distracted. Or maybe he just doesn’t want to focus.
Or perhaps he is a teacher and has the summer off. He looks like he could be at least 25. Maybe he is still in that awkward transition from student to adult, as am I. Maybe he and I are more similar than I would like to admit.
I, too, come to public places and look around. I get distracted. I look for my future mate. I wonder about such things.
It seems from observing him and observing myself that this age is truly an age of wandering. An age of not fully understanding. An age of experimentation.
An age where things can go horribly wrong or where things can go horribly right.
An age where it is foolish to only trust in myself and my own instincts.
An age where I must constantly remind myself of God’s love and that all such concerns are in His hands.
So thank you, lone motorist, for letting me observe you. I pray God finds His way into your life and heart. I pray all your dreams come true. I pray that your wandering may come to an end.
I pray I’ll see you in heaven.