The Person I'm Next To Had A Urinary Tract Infection Two Months Ago

I'm next to this girl. She has a cute Sherpa hat on, a blue fluffy coat, a red skirt, darker green tights and yellow boots. Its all very primary. She is 5 foot 6, and weighs 148 pounds, I know this to be true, for reasons which will become apparent later. We are in a coffee shop and more specifically she is in a corner, facing the wall. She is on the phone with a doctor and it appears this call is urgent, because even though she doesn't want to be on it. She keeps trying to whisper, but then having to repeat herself in a louder voice. So she keeps saying these quiet unintelligible sentences, followed by a louder clear sentences, they are like reverse echoes. She is whispering, because this conversation has something to do with her lady parts.
At first she is answering very basic questions, height, weight, eating habits. She is allergic to mango, it gives her a rash. She takes a daily multi-vitamin, and exercises 2 times a week. Then it gets more specific, and presumably personal. No she does not take any medicines. Yes she has used a lotion for the mystery problem, but it wasn't medicated. A few months ago she had a UTI, and yes she uses condoms. Well not every time, but most times. Yes she knows she should, yes she will in the future. Yes, every single time. No, this is her first mystery problem. Yes, she can hold.
The hold is what breaks her. She looks around and sees everyone in the shop hastily putting on their headphones. Yes, they were listening. No, they won't admit it. Yes, they are bad at coffee shop spying. She briskly walks to the counter, drops a few bucks on it and walks out, head down. My heart breaks a little, I hope she isn't to embarrassed.
This is why people should be better at spying.

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The Person I'm Next To Has Caused Me To Explode With Self Hate

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The Person I am Next to is Saving Over 3 Hours Annually

I am next to this guy. He is weathering a heathered purple tee, fitted tan jeans, and gray canvas shoes. He has a scruffy beard, big headphones, and expressive eyebrows. Eyebrows that just gave me a condescending waggle. This waggle is, presumably, referencing my use of sidewalks. We are in a park, and in the fashion of most public greens, the sidewalks are meandering devices, more concerned with rose smelling than pedestrian efficiency. But, Tan Jeans is unconvinced by their suggestion of an idle pace. Our paths cross as he enters the park. We seem to be headed in the same direction. I am bound by these fascist sidewalks, this intrepid son of Magellan has plotted a new course. A straight fucking line. This is where he shoots me that patronizing look. Then, he boldly steps from concrete. Shocked and cowed by the genius of his revolutionary trailblazing, I sheepishly fall behind his blistering pace, herded along a preset path. He reaches the edge of the pa...

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The Person I’m Next To Unexpectedly Resorted to Brutality

I’m next to this man. His look suggests mildness. He has sandy hair just short enough to stick straight out, giving his head a great blurry halo. His facial features are similarly rounded with all gentle curves. He is the type of guy that would be very easy to imagine as a stuffed animal version of himself. When I first see him, he is standing in front of an automatic paper towel dispenser in a coffee shop. He has a tablet in one hand, and a coffee mug in the other. He looks at a nearby counter, which is a bit wet, then back at his tablet. After a few seconds of consternation, he realizes he can spare his electronics and just set down the coffee. He chuckles at his indecision, then looks over at me with an expression that says ‘oh silly me’. I reply with a nod that says, ‘I-recognize-your-former-dilemma-and-I-applaud-your-decision-but-can-we-maybe-get-this-towel-train-moving-my-own-mug-has-some-coffee-spilling-down-its-side-and-I’d like-to-handle-it’. He ...

The Person I'm Next To Is One With His Tamale

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