So I’m sitting here at the Coffee Gallery in The Open Book hanging out enjoying the relative peace and quiet and the warm glow that comes with a stack of short stories two inches high with your name on it.

I’m listening to Liz Phair and reading my homework because instead of doing it at home I was busy writing and playing with the Tibbles.

Anyway, I’m people watching as I am wont to do and which is why I rarely ever write at coffee shops — too many distractions. So I talk to Marcy a classmate from writing classes past when I decide that I am 83% sure that the dude who just walked in is the little agitated guy from Barnes & Noble.

Of course, as soon as Marcy departs for her writing group I have to whip out Jed and e-mail FFJ, because running into the little agitated guy is bizarre.

Now, as I type this he is sitting two tables away reading a thick book and eating a sugar cookie. I keep coughing “Portnoy’s Complaint” much to my own hilarity hoping he’ll take notice.

So far, no dice.