A Predicament at Pearl’s Place

People are easy, more predictable the more chaotic they act. Take that guy over there for instance. This one leaning on the streetlamp post and smoking his cigarette. From the way he is dressed, to the place he is standing he wants you to think he is waiting for the bus. That bus does not come till 4:30PM, it is currently 3:47 and no one waits at a bus stop leaning on a lamppost. This guy is bored while he waits for a “client” to show up. He is dressed like a hipster met a LA version of a Harajuku street artist while he sips his Starbucks drink and acts preoccupied with his equally overpriced phone. He is dealing drugs. Heck, think about it a few seconds more and you can even tell what kind it is he is selling. Think longer about it, you will know what kind of client he is waiting on, how late they are, and how quickly this dealer will vacate the area after the deal is done. But it is not important. This person is just like thousands of others doing what they know to get by. This kid is just an example I am using to discuss how easy it is to analyze people.

Humans tend to keep two kinds of schedules, their internal one where they just follow their will as they see fit according to their personality type; Or the one they have set for the façade they are attempting to render. The ones with low profiles are the ones that are the hardest to trace or decipher, which is why we should do our best not to judge others less we be judged. It is now 3:49PM and I am walking through the city streets to grab some breakfast on the backside of the town’s financial district. I pass a parking garage and cross the street to a more shaded road where there is less traffic. The walk does not have much to see until you get here. My destination is this small Jewish diner that never loses its charm with age. The heavy wood frame of the etched glass front door creaks with a welcoming familiarity.

The smell of fresh, strongly brewed coffee greets you like an old friend no matter what time the clock reads, and the bartender is the kind that never forgets a face while he is always moving, diligently working. “Morning, Charlie!” I greet him with my best half-awake smile as I feign sleepiness. A charming bald fellow with a twinkle in his eye waves towards me from behind the bar as I take my seat, he grabs my coffee with a side dish of cream and plain sugar. Charlie drops off the cup and condiments then turns to pick up a glass to shine as he greets me “So you finally woke up? Will you be having your usual or will you think about it today?” He is always smiling as if he knows nothing different. It is infectious, it makes you smile too. I am meditating on this as I reply, “today’s my day off so I will think about it.” He winks and then heads off to tend to the next customer walking in the door. I begin to sip my coffee.

Having habits anchors an individual to the time and place they reside in. When people recognize habits, it can make them comfortable with you or the opposite. It is currently 4:21 and the bus will be arriving at the stop around the corner in 9 minutes. Cities have a beat much like people do, a schedule that affects the residents of the town and by proxy it affects the choices and actions those visiting, or how the schedules of those who are new to it are formed. Happy hour started twenty-one minutes ago, so Charlie dropped off an old fashioned to my place setting. “Thank you, you know me too well sir”

Charlie: “It is my job to serve after all, besides today is a special day!”

I eye him questioningly as his own irises seem to shine brighter from deep within their green core when suddenly a creaking comes from the front door. A woman walks in dressed in black boots, jeans, and a tee with a leather jacket over top. She moves her sunglasses to rest on top her blonde head as she enters and takes a seat two places to the right of me at the bar. I am shocked as I turn to see Charlie is grinning again. “I do not understand, what is…” I am interrupted by another creak from the door. This time the woman is older than me, with graying blonde hair. She has spent some time in the sun and her face is stern as she strides over to take the seat directly next to me on my left. She is dressed in a satin blue suit with a white camisole that hides most of her neck. Charlie is silent as he turns to grab two cups of coffee, both with a dish of plain sugar and creamer. He sets them down in font of the ladies and addresses his next question to both simultaneously. “Ladies, what will it be today? Your Usual or should I let you think about it?”

My head is left spinning, dazed. The younger woman speaks first, “Babka’s French Toast” she says slowly after considering the menu “…and a mimosa.” The older woman motions over to me and smiles “Whatever this Lady decides, I’ll have the same.” I shrink in my seat as the realization dawns on me that this is not a dream. These women are versions of myself. The one to my right is my younger self. The version to my left is an older me. I begin to open my mouth to say something when the younger me speaks again while pointing in my direction “She will have the smoked trout with a bagel and an egg, cooked over medium. If she is still hungry, she will get the duck perogies.” She puts the menu down and begins to meticulously mix her condiments in to her coffee.

Peeling back the corner of each sugar pack so that it tears the strip from the top, she tips the packet slowly releasing the granules as she looks up sheepishly and grins in a fashion that creepily resembles Charlie’s own expression. He laughs at her confidence as though it were an inside joke, hands her a mimosa, then shuffles away to take the order to the kitchen. “What is happening?” I ask and as I do, I can feel my voice bend around the room. I look around and realize the other customers have disappeared, and though I can smell our food being made, there is not a cook in sight.

“Hmm… does it feel as though someone has cut the cord loose from your anchor?” the Elder Me asked flatly as she stirred her own cup of coffee. “Yeah… what is this even?” I responded and at that moment another creak came from the door. I looked back to see another me, except this one looked like the me sitting in this chair. She just a different shirt on. “Consider this a test.” This fourth version of me answers as she sits in the empty seat directly to my right. The Elder Me attempts to smile but seems to fail and quickly fall into a discerning expression as she speaks again “I suppose we are to blame for your anchor to give way from the day…” she lets the words fade. As her expression drifts Charlie walks back to the bar carrying plates of food, including the extra plate of perogies. As he approaches us the light begins to dim from outside and quickly fade into night. The elder me watches the windows as the night sets in. I swivel my attention from the windows to the stained-glass ceiling lights as they flicker a little brighter than they had been before.

The clocks have stopped at 4:23 in the afternoon but the view outside looked as if it was past midnight. “The anchor was removed from my reality… to test me… for what? How I view myself?” I ask as I close my eyes for a moment to orient myself, attempting to control my frustration, my confusion. “What do you all want from me?”

The Younger Me takes a sip of her mimosa and sighs loftily “can we not just have a drink with a dear iteration of our self?” she giggles. The Elder Me sighs “Should you not be able to tell with all of your predictions and judgments about who a person is, what they will be?” The Twin of the Present Me sticks a fork in my plate of perogies then takes a bite of one. She swallows then calmly replies “We need you to solve a riddle.”

Charlie who had been brewing a second pot of coffee steps forward and fills a cup for the Twin of my Present Self. As the brew flows into the porcelain mug everyone is silent. He asks in a melodic way: “If you could be you, but not be you, who would you be. A life with answers, a life of promise; or the you, you thought your life should be?”

The silence from the other versions of myself continues. They each slowly eat their entrees as they wait for my response. “…This riddle, it feigns a choice while implying a fate to be had…”

Charlie places the coffee pot back on the burner and steps back to the bar to begin mixing another cocktail as I take another sip of my drink. I have given up on coffee at this point as I have begun to wish for my reality to return to me. “You analyzed the riddle instead of analyzing yourself? You do realize that is a preservation tactic?” The Twin of the Present Me says as she cuts in to the last of the perogies.

“You are saying that pointing out it is a trick question is not the answer that will release me from this paradox.” I say with concentration as I stir the coffee in my cup I am not drinking, then pull the spoon above the liquids surface. A drop of brew seeps to the tip of the spoon then begins to fall, however it is stopped in mid-air. “This really is a paradox…” I take another deep breath and examine them all “I am none of you currently. The last of you is a person I never was, the second of you is a person I may never be. This young me is very much who I was but could never be the real me because she never ate here or occupied this space. Logic dictates I am none of you then, and none of you are me. Yet, I bet if I asked you each a separate question about my past you could answer it accurately.”

“Well that is the point, is it not? You cannot be you to solve this riddle.” Chimes in the Younger Me as I look to the drop of coffee suspended above its mug and let go of the spoon to watch it still itself in the air. The Elder me smiles as she finishes her meal “I will get the check for us all Charlie. I think she has got the answer…”

Suddenly the spoon and coffee fall back inside the cup. Daylight returns as if I blinked. The customers I had seen in the diner before are all back, sitting at their booths, with no sign of the other versions of myself in sight. The door creaks open and an elderly gentleman comes to sit at the bar.

The time is 4:25PM, I move one seat over to the right to make room for him.