There’s this fella I see at empresso every so often and also at the library branch I frequent. Let’s call him Joey Casanova. The reasons will become clear in a bit.
By the way, if you’ve forgotten, empresso is the coffeehouse I patronize most frequently. It’s located in the Empire Theater on the Miracle Mile in Stockton. Students from the University of the Pacific, CSU-Stanislaus satellite campus, San Joaquin Delta College, and the nearby adult school keep the place pretty busy, which is great for the owners what with this economy the way it is.
Anyway, in the two or so years that I’ve been going to empresso, Joey Casanova has had at least three or four different girlfriends. He swaggers in with the woman on his arm, they grab a beverage, and then they usually sit in the patio area at the front of the theater. He sometimes lights up a really cheap cigar or pulls a book from a cheap canvas book bag and begins to thumb through the book.
Whether he’s with a woman or not, he carries himself with a swagger and air of self-assuredness that is somehow, well, revolting. He carries himself as if he believes he is God’s gift to women.
But the thing is he’s not that much to look at. He’s about 6-2 or so, 275 to 300 pounds – soft pounds, too, not much muscle bulk – dark hair that’s always nicely trimmed, but nothing special to look at. He usually wears a T-shirt and black jeans or black shorts, which contrasts with his somewhat pasty white skin. He often wears sandals and sometimes he wears a fedora.
I’ve heard the guy speak; nothing special there either. He doesn’t come across nearly as intelligent as he seems to believe he is and I’ve even heard him make a couple of borderline inappropriate comments.
I think it is the swagger that grates at me most. And the way he seems to view women. If a woman is sitting alone in the coffeehouse, Joey Casanova frequently goes up to them and strikes up a conversation as if it is expected that they respond to him positively. And they often do just that. The thing is, the very next day he might show up with the girlfriend du jour. And his swagger.
Yeah, I suppose it could be just coffeehouse confidence, but I don’t think so. I mean, sometimes he simply ogles women. I suppose it might be a touch of jealousy since I haven’t had much luck dating lately. Besides, I’d rather think of Joey Casanova as an oaf, lout and a boor.
Here’s another thing that contributes to my distaste of Joey Casanova. As people are gathering at the front door of the library branch, he’ll swagger up, move directly to the front of the pack, and very typically attempt to strike up a conversation with the most attractive woman there. It doesn’t matter if she’s in her teens or her 70s, he’ll attempt to win them over with a cliché or two and what I suspect he believes is a charming grin that comes across as smarmy.
Once the doors open, however, Joey Casanova bolts for the computers provided by the library for internet access. He pecks in his library card number and does whatever it is Joey Casanova does online, which is a scary thought.
Here is a typical Joey Casanova move: The other day I was sitting in the library where there are tables set aside for WiFi users and a pretty black woman sat down across from me. Her top revealed a bit of cleavage.
As soon as Joey Casanova’s hour was up on the computer – you get an hour each day on the library computers – he swaggered by and I’m pretty sure he did so simply to look down the woman’s shirt. See, an oaf, lout, and boor.
And women don’t seem to see that. How do the Joey Casanova’s of the world do it? Ah, well, at least he’s not in the coffeehouse today.
Go to Coffeehouse Observer for more coffeehouse observations.
My name is Keith Michaud and this is “Letters From Away,” a blog written by a Mainer living outside the comfortable and sane confines of New England. The blog is intended for Mainers, whether they live in the Pine Tree State or beyond, and for anyone who has loved ’em, been baffled by ’em or both. Ayuh, I am “from away.” Worse still, I live on the Left Coast – in California. Enjoy! Or not. Your choice.
Letters From Away 