Chaos Theory
Shawn Stufflebeam

Blind Date

"You know, decaf has almost the same amount of caffeine as regular coffee," she says nonchalantly.

"Really," he replies cautiously, his brow furrowing unconsciously, "It doesn’t seem like it. I mean, I was a caffeine FREAK, and now I can drink just one cup."

"Yep, there’s almost no difference between the two."

Pause.

"It’s just," he continues, against his better judgment, "I’m not usually able to moderate very well. With substances, I mean. I am usually ‘all or nothing’, so to speak. I’ve got that really addictive personality – you know? And I don’t even touch this stuff every day. I mean, I loved coffee; I drank nearly a pot a day, and wouldn’t even turn it down at night."

The waitress arrives with their coffee - regular for her, and decaf for him. "You might as well just have regular," she says as the waitress finishes gathering the spent plates, dropping the check discretely on his side of the table.

"So tell me about this guy you were seeing," he says, dodging in a new direction. "You knew him from school?

"Yes. He is the only man I’ve ever considered marrying – I would have married him in a New York minute. But that’s over now," she finishes, stirring the sugar into her coffee. "That was a long time ago."

"Oh," he says, surprised. "I thought that was a recent thing."

"No, it was ages ago – it’s like a different time to me now, you know?" He nods, thinking of his ex-wife, and Nebraska. Six years had passed, but sometimes it still seemed like yesterday. "Gosh, I haven’t been with him since June," She continues.

"June?"

"Yes, June."

"That’s three months ago."

"Yes. But it seems like years, doesn’t it" Smile.

Pause.

"He was a rap singer," she offers.

"I thought you were studying math," he says, eyebrows slightly raised.

"I was – I am. He was also a mathematician."

"He was a rapper and a mathematician?"

"Yes. He was the best man I’ve ever known. But I could only fit into one of his worlds." She shifts in her seat, pulling briefly at the hem of her skirt. "I’ve never been very good at math," she finishes.

Pause.

"But you’re getting a degree in math," he says.

"A Masters degree in fractal geometry, with a minor in time-space theoretical mathematics, yes. But not a PhD or anything. And I hate it."

"So in you other life, three months ago," he forges on, smiling, "What happened?"

"Well, one day I was asking him about the upcoming exam, and the next he was gone."

"He was your teacher?"

"My professor, yes."

Pause.

"What do you mean, ‘gone’?"

"Disappeared."

"You mean he just left you?"

"No, I mean he disappeared. We had a guest lecturer the whole rest of the quarter, and I’ve never seen him since," she clarifies as she looks around for the waitress.

"Your teacher," he begins.

"Professor," she corrects him.

"Your rap-star professor of mathematics, your boyfriend, just up and left in the middle of the quarter?" he asks, consciously trying to relax the muscles in his face.

"Fiancé, and yes, he disappeared." The waitress arrives with more coffee. "After all, he was a gangsta rapper."

Pause. Coffee sipping. A small bird hops right onto the café patio next to their table, looking for breadcrumbs. The wind blows softly through the trees that line the sidewalk nearby. Someone coughs, and someone drops a spoon. A truck two blocks away honks its horn.

"Those are great shoes you’re wearing." He sips his coffee again, and burns his tongue.

"Thanks," she beams, perking up. "I love straps."

"Honestly, they are very cool. Every head turns when you pass by."

"Thanks," she smiles, twisting her rich brown locks of shoulder-length hair with her free hand.

"You’re welcome," he says, returning the smile. "You know, that reminds me of this guy I knew who disappeared once. He lived out in Boulder, Colorado. Have you ever been out there?"

"No."

"It is truly beautiful. Spellbinding"

"Uh-huh."

"Well, anyway," he continues, "He got in touch with these Buddhist monks – Boulder is kind of a hippie town, after all –"

"What?"

"You see, one day, his wife came home to find the house burned to the ground, and the guy was just gone. Hiked off into the mountains. Left a note about materialism, or some crazy-"

"Why are you telling me this?" she interrupts.

"I, uh, just thought it was kind of like…you know....uh, never mind," he manages to get out while dropping some cash on the bill. "Actually, he used to rap a little, too."

"Was his name DJ Funky Breath?" she asks, her eyes lighting up.

"Uh, no," he confesses.

"Oh. Well, then I probably don’t know him. Did he ever teach math?"

"Not that I’m aware of. That’s not really what I was getting at."

"What do you mean?"

Pause.

"Those are great earrings – you really do accessorize well," he blurts out, finally.

"Why thank you," she responds. "Aren’t you sweet." She flashes him a smile, and flips her hair.

"Listen, would you like to get a cappuccino and some dessert over at Café Intermezzo?" he queries.

"That sounds great!" she comes back. "I love that place."

"Me too! My favorite so far is the triple white chocolate decadence supreme."

"Oh, I am crazy for that one! With the dark chocolate sprinkles and whipped chocolate mousse on top?" she pipes in.

"Precisely," he confirms. "Let me help you with your coat." He stands while she reaches for her purse.

"You know," she says as they walk towards the door, "I feel a real connection with you."

She smiles. He smiles back.

"Me too," he says.

Email Shawn at: Chaos@hybridmagazine.com 

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