The coffee in my mug has long been emptied but I stayed seated on the same chair for the past 47 minutes.
Sophie’s questions seem to be never ending regardless of me giving dead end answers. I sighed, trying to shift the focus on her. “What’s your job?”
Sophie beamed. “I’m a photographer.”
“Are you a good one?”
“I’d like to think so. Although none of my works have made it at Howard Greenberg’s yet.”
“Maybe in a couple of months then. Your photographs will be much more valuable once you’re dead.”
The tiniest sip of coffee she took almost reached me when she coughed. “I don’t think that’s how it works.”
I shrugged, and this seemed to make her laugh, head tipping backwards a little. I never really understood how some people are too animated. Did she really feel such strong emotions that she can’t help it or is she exaggerating? I could never tell.
The clock behind Sophie showed 10:25, marking the one hour that has passed since I sat in front of the blonde. Deciding I’ve had enough for the day, I excused myself, telling her that I had to go.
“Where are you heading?” Sophie asked as we both stood in front of the door. She told me that she had to go as well.
“That way.” I gestured to my right. “I have to drop by at work.”
“Oh okay. Perfect! I’m heading that way too.”
“Really?”
“Well…not really. I just kinda wanted to walk with you.” Her eyebrows scrunched along with her lips pouting as she watched me closely. “Is that okay? I mean, if it’s not, that’s totally fine. Really. Just say it. ‘Cause I get that this is kinda weird or creepy–I hope you don’t think so–especially that we don’t really know each other that much–I would very much like to get to know you, though. Just so you know. Oops sorry. Kinda got side tracked there. What I mean is, I just–please make me stop blabbering.”
“Do whatever you want.”
“Okay. I’ll stop.”
With a shrug, I started walking along the busy street. The breeze smell like sweet flowers and freshly baked bread.
“Wait. By ‘do whatever you want’, did you mean about me blabbering or me walking with you?” Sophie craned her neck, keeping her eyes on me as she fell into step beside me. “Just to be clear.”
“Both.”
“Oh okay. That’s goo–Is that–” Coming into a halt, I watched as Sophie broke into a grin, eyes almost sparkling with the way the sunrays hit her. She pointed animatedly at the vending machine in front of us. “That’s my name on the bottle!”
Sophie proceeded to insert a dollar still grinning as she rocked back and forth waiting for the bottle to drop. I felt tired for her. “I don’t see what’s so surprising. Your name is fairly common.”
A gasp came out of her and she turned to me with a glare. “Are you saying I’m a basic bitch?”
“Well, I suppose not you. Your parents, mostly.”
With a laugh, Sophie took the bottle from the bottom of the machine, lifting it up in fascination. I glanced briefly at the time and saw that she already held me back for almost five minutes. Motioning for her to follow, we resumed walking.
“It’s a way companies try to make you feel special. You see your name, you end up buying it. You didn’t even want one nor thought about having one until you saw your name on the bottle.” Capitalism and the consumerism culture takes advantage of people’s need to feel special and most fall into these trap.
“There are just some things that you don’t know existed and when you see it, you’d end up wondering how you’ve lived without it for so long,” Sophie countered with furrowed eyebrows.
“It’s not important then if you were able to live without knowing it existed for so long.”
“Not really because this thing is making you happy, unlike before when you didn’t have it. Sure, it’s not a necessity, it’s a want. But wants are what makes life fun and enjoyable.”
“Okay then. I hope that cola makes you happy.”
“Thank you. Yeah I hope so too.” Her wide smile was back again.
“Would you be disappointed if it doesn’t make you happy?”
“I think so. If my expectation was that it would make me happy and it didn’t, then yes. Of course.” She stared once more at the cola in her hand before laughing. “That’s a lot to ask from a cola though.”
“It won’t respond though so I suppose you could keep on asking, even though it’s a lot to ask for. At the expense of your disappointment.”
“But if you ask, you’re expecting a response from it. So why would you ask when you know it won’t answer.”
“It awfully sounds like prayers, don’t you think?”
Sophie laughed loudly, attracting attention from the people who passed us.
Taking a right turn, we drew closer to the bookstore. “So, if you look at it like that, prayers I mean, it might be for comfort. Just to feel like someone is listening to you when you don’t have anyone. A delusion to make you feel better.”
“Do you pray?”
Mother baptized me at the local church without consent when I was a few months old. “No. I don’t practice Christianity.”
“Really? I thought you were religious. You talked about original sin when we first met.”
Stopping in front of the red bricked-shop, I caught a glimpse of Norm, my co-worker. “I did.” I glanced at the still unopened bottle of cola in Sophie’s hand before flashing a smile at her. “I think you should drink that already.”
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