A Fly on the Wall

I buzz over to an area that has become a ritual pathway for me to fly down and plant myself on, Philz Coffee. I am accompanied by quite a few, larger pieces of gum that pose a serious threat to my delicate life. I can almost always tell which piece has recently been stuck there by the strong stench of spearmint, or maybe it’s wintergreen? Ahhh, the sweet smell of coffee and tobacco travel through my antennas, making me wish I could be reborn as a human and experience the inhale of a Marlboro 27. The same man who rides his fix wheel over and sits for 3-5 hours outside of the coffee shop is talking to an English major about philosphy. I like to think the two have ran out of things to talk about, so they wander into subjects such as the anatomy of a cat’s tail, or the study that is still going on in the Big Bang Theory.

It’s raining quite a bit so I am forced to perch in a corner that echos voices louder than I would like them to.  I am also careful of the pipes above leaking a continuously large amount of water that I have noticed some people fall victim to walking under. How are you that preoccupied that you can’t dodge a very evident stream of rain water coming from above your head? Humans, so pitifully oblivious. There’s one specifically I take pleasure in annoying. He sits on his headphones and plays on his DJing app he downloaded on his laptop, and whenever he seems to be the most concentrated, I will find a nice landing spot on his forehead. He tries swatting me away, and every time I come back he gets angry enough to let out an annoyed grunt. Just another day at Philz…


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