I stole his seat. 


Rather I stole his table.   MY table – the one table in the room which gets hit with cold air from the AC.   The cold corner, where red and white walls meet.  It’s a small table, a couples table.   Now if he had been possession, if he had been using this cool oasis, I would have only looked wistfully in his direction – not at him mind you, but in his direction, reminding myself that often the race goes to the swift.  But he was not!  He was playing chess in the middle of the room. 


Playing chess in a ostentatious, vulgar manner.




The law cannot touch these seat hogging, chess playing fiends.



I’ve heard that possession is nine-tenths of the law.  I find this hard to believe, thinking rather that the law is nine-tenths obfuscation, shrouded in obscure verbiage.



I sit down across from his bag and break all the unwritten laws of coffeehouse seat saving.












Maybe my life needs more . . . excitement. 



This is sounding too much like Walter Mitty.


  1. I think your life needs more excitement.....but I thought this was really funny.