Coffeehouse 5

It's not warm. Certainly not quiet or peaceful. It's not about any single individual. It's certainly not to do with the five dollar cup of murky water. But something happens there, something unique. Absolutely filled with phones and tablets and laptops, but somehow connected. Not by the wifi, don't be facetious. That girl walked here, you can see it in her boots and jacket—covered in snow. He drove—his keys are on the table. He probably parked in the structure out back. It's not for the music. We're not waiting for some great event that only happens here. We just are. Here. Alone, but together.
Why is that? Why alone together? Why not alone alone? What is it for? That guy's on a date. He's smiling more than she is, and she brought more stuff. Good luck dude! It looks troublesome from here. Those girls are friends. One has a notebook and one has a torn out piece of paper. The first is lefthanded. This guy is on a laptop but clearly not working. He might be one of Super Villain's henchmen. It's certainly not for the art. Nobody likes coffee beans that much. That girl is talking about how she is going to intern for Ellen DeGeneres. A lot of attractive people like coffee. I wonder about the causality between Starbucks and lookers: dressed up for coffee dates? or maybe a target market situation? I titled this piece Coffeehouse 5, but only for the humorous allusion. I have no concept of the contents of that text. It's a Vonnegut, right? Kirk? Kurt? I think Kurt. I pretend to know.