regulars kerry melissa and i were talking about how hard it is to make friends as adults. she said one way gussy's made some friends is to by becoming a regular at a cafe near their house. he goes there all the time and drinks coffee while he works on his poetry, and he makes small talk with the baristas and other regulars. he's an extrovert, which helps. "i'm starting to look for places where i can become a regular." "you're a regular here," alex said. we were at melrose diner. i'd ordered a grilled cheddar with tomato on rye and then he ordered the same thing, which always drives me nuts. "i come here a lot but i'm not a REGULAR regular," i said. "that guy--he is a regular." i was nodding my head toward a man sitting at the counter, huddled over some papers, writing furiously. i see him at melrose nearly every time i go. he always sits at that same general part of the counter, always hunching over some kind of paper or book, always wearing black boots and a black coat. today it was 70 degrees and he was still wearing the coat. alex didn't want to turn around and look, but he didn't have to because all of a sudden the regular got up and walked past our booth, towards the bathroom. "he looks like somebody, some actor," i said. it's been really bugging me, trying to think of who this guy reminds me of. some character actor. "he looks like someone..." i said again. "who does he look like? help me." "i don't know what you're talking about," alex said. since the regular was in the restroom i could see what he'd ordered. he had a coffee, a watered down soda--could have been coke or root beer--and a glass of water. "three beverages!" i said. "coffee and soda--wonder what his teeth look like." alex made a face. i was kind of buzzy, had been all day. the sun was too bright, i felt like i could hear the heartbeat of everyone around me. i felt like all my nerves were exposed, like i had no skin. alex took a bite of his grilled cheese and some of the tomato oozed out the side. "they do it wrong here," he said. "what?" "the tomato. they put it on the skillet." "what's wrong with it?" "it cooks it too much." "so what should they do?" "they shouldn't put it on the skillet." i rolled my eyes. it felt like he was being purposely obtuse. "what would make it right, the way you want it to be? what is the correct way to add tomato to a grilled cheese sandwich?" "you put the tomato on the bread, not the skillet." i took a bite of mine. it was scalding, though i'd let it sit while i poked at my fries. he was right--it was too mushy. the consistent presence of this guy in the dark coat has made me a little hesitant to make melrose my spot. i don't know why--melrose diner probably has plenty of regulars. "i thought about ultimo, but their coffee is kind of expensive to be ordering several times a week. plus there's almost no seating." "there's rival brothers," alex said. "too long of a walk." homegrown is right down the street and it advertises itself as a coffeeshop but it's more of a cafe that has some coffee on the menu along with a bunch of random food offerings--veggie burgers, hoagies, bagels, tater tots. then there's caffee ida but something about it--i have a hard time articulating why it wouldn't work. "no, not there," alex agreed. we didn't have to say anything more. when we were walking to the cash register to pay, the guy was still in the restroom so i was able to get a better look at his situation. he had a stack of papers, a red composition notebook, and a hefty book with "psychotherapy" in big letters on the cover. i elbowed alex. "so he's a therapist! or a student! psychotherapy." i felt almost giddy. he glanced over and then whispered to me, "a christian perspective." i took a second look at the cover of the book. he was right. "psychotherapy: a christian perspective." "huh." that was when the regular returned, slid onto the swivel chair, and took a sip of his soda followed by the coffee. for some reason my curiosity was somewhat dampened. i think it was the christian thing. and he didn't remind me of anyone in particular anymore. i could see the lines in his skin and how his hair was crispy from gel. i wished i hadn't gotten so close. and i still don't know where i'll become a regular. 220319 what's it to you? who go blather from