People-Watching: The Obz Edition

Sitting very happily alone at a table in the corner, I waited for my friend to meet me. The music was good, the beer was cold, and the people were well worth watching so the boxes were all ticked. I’m a big fan of people-watching.

Behind me was a table of fresh-faced, predominantly dreadlocked, German tourists sitting discussing the night before, which had been sufficiently wild to keep my attention for a good ten minutes. At least. Not that I was listening to every, single, word, of course. I couldn’t hear what the one furthest away was saying over the music, so I was missing his words. Luckily I have a fairly good imagination. I filled in the gaps, probably making their night out far more juicy than it really was.

Through the glass window of the place I could see the goings-on on the pavement. Another young, fresh-faced, dreadlocked (I was in Obz. This explains large numbers of dreadlocks) young girl was causing cracklings of sexual tension out there  as she hummed between a tattooed boy playing on his phone and a tall, gangly boy who’d come ambling down the pavement and greeted her like old friends. They were participating in the age-old mating ritual of ‘practicing ways to greet’, including a running leap toward each other to bump chests. I kid you not.

To my right, an older lady sat, exuding waves of nervousness. She kept picking up her phone, and putting it down again. I realised when she stood up as a well-dressed, older, man came through the door that I was probably witnessing an internet date. She ordered a Savannah, which she drank out of a glass after squeezing the small piece of lemon over it. He had an espresso. They were getting along like a house on fire, moving into the table. At one point they’d put both their hands on the table, almost close enough to touch and I waited with bated breath. Then he crossed his arms and moved his chair out, just a fraction. I wondered what she’d just said.

Not for long, though, because my friend arrived and my attention got pulled back to the table I was at, and my ice cold beer. I love summer.

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