I remember the days before I had a blog. Days where my friends were free to humiliate themselves in my presence without asking if I was going to write about them. Things have changed; today they treat me like a reporter waiting for his big scoop. They think I’m secretly documenting their every tic for a grand exposé, soon to be read by millions. Well joke’s on them, because first of all, nobody reads my blog.
I’m at the neighbourhood coffee shop sipping on a bottle of beer. Visits here are always a quiet affair. The customers tend to be alone, just like today. Some are nursing beer bottles, while others tuck into their dinners for one. I’m aware of my flatter-than-usual jeans pocket, because I left my phone at home today. It doesn’t matter. I could use some time apart from the internet anyway.