'Cause You're Everywhere To Me

Feels like home.
I’m at the Muddy Cup on Madison Avenue. The furniture feels very home-y to me. Nothing looks like it’s mandated by corporate to match, but somehow it all works. The Madison Theatre is right next door, and there are renovations being done on the empty space on the other side of the Muddy Cup. CVS is also on the corner. I used to live right around the corner on South Main so to me it’s a pretty safe neighborhood, right down the street from Saint Rose. I used to come here a lot with my old housemate, Lyndsay, when I first moved to Albany in the fall of 2005. I also used to come here before I turned 21 and couldn’t get into bars. I would come with either my roommate Ashley and her boyfriend and play Taboo drunk, or drag Lyndsay with me.

It’s a comfortable place, and I became more comfortable, although I wish I didn’t sit by the door because the draft from the it opening and closing makes me cold. The couch I’m sitting on is also kind of in the middle of the room so it makes it hard to see everything that’s going on. The couches remind me of the one in my apartment, which used to belong to Ashley’s grandma. It also reminds me of Napoleon Dynamite’s couch.


Excuse me, do I know you?
Karen from class is here also doing this assignment. She is wearing black, has her hair in a ponytail and is wearing glasses. It looks like she had a bagel and a Life Water, either the red or pink kind.

It’s quiet at first, but then a few people that know The Coffee Guy come in and they start talking. They talk about jazz and movies. The Coffee Guy looks like he’s in his 20s, wears a black sweatshirt, a cap, and thick black glasses. He seems very friendly and jokes around with his friends when they come in. “Don’t make me kill you!” “Liar!” The Coffee Guy and his friend talk about a movie scene. They say, “Déjà vu. Vu jade, this has never happened before.” I experience both of these things while I sit here.

There’s a guy in the window reading what looks like a manuscript. He’s wearing a black coat, black jeans, has glasses and a beard. Watching Window Guy #1 also made me think of the time I came here with Dee last spring. She talked to me about the stupid Ash/Drew/Dee triangle drama shit. I pretended to care but already knew the true story from Ash.

There’s another guy in window #2 on a laptop wearing glasses. He goes outside for a smoke. When he comes back in the smell makes me want to sneeze.

Two more people come in, both girls, and one introduces the other to her friend Shawn/Sean. He looks like a Sean, and also looks like my friend’s friend Dave.

A guy walks in and from behind he reminds me of another guy that I’ve seen on campus recently. I don’t know Campus Guy but whenever I see him we always meet eyes. I find this strange because I usually don’t make eye contact with strangers.

A woman comes in and she’s wearing a green jacket, sneakers, jeans, glasses, and NY Giants earmuffs. She looks very familiar, maybe someone else I’ve seen on campus. She has short hair and is wearing earrings. She orders a coffee and a cookie, sits down for a minute, and then gets up to get a paper to read. A while later another woman comes in and sits with Familiar-Looking Woman. She’s wearing dress clothes, clicky heels, black patent leather. They talk about school.

Window Guy # 1 leaves and is replaced by a woman. She has red hair, wears a scarf, green vest with an orange button down, jeans which are too short, and hiking shoes. She gets a water… in a coffee shop.

The guy that was on the gold couch left his drink on the table half full, the lid is off and to the side of the cup. How strange.

Two new people come in: a couple, and sit on the gold couch across from me. She sits in the green chair at the end of the gold couch. She is the only person in this hour that looks at me, and more than once. I think I make her nervous.


What I Sense
It’s very red. The walls are red, and there are paintings on the walls that have a lot of red incorporated in them. The furniture is either gold or green, and there are other random wooden chairs and tables around. It’s fairly lit, not too dark, but not too bright considering the front is all window.

I’m kind of cold, which could be from the concrete floors, ceiling fans, or the AC. I know part of it is from the cold air from people coming through the door. The only thing I pick up is my coffee, which practically burnt the skin off my hand. I touch the couch and it doesn’t feel like I think it should. When I sat down I sunk in practically to the floor because the couch is very soft and squishy. When I touch it, the fabric feels kind of rough and scratchy.

At first I can smell the perfume Burberry. Later on I smell bagels cooking, and shampoo, possibly Herbal Essence. There are a few workers that come in who I assume to be working on the space next door. They smell like sweaty, sawdusty guy. Something else smells kind of old, maybe damp, and I think it’s the furniture because it looks old, and lots of people sit here. I’m not a germaphobe or anything, but thinking about all the people who sit here makes me feel slightly uncomfortable. I think about strange things though. Like, whenever I go to Yankee Candle and put votives up to my nose I always wonder how many noses it has already touched. Gross.

People are chatting quietly to each other. There’s also the sound of the refrigerator running, the AC buzzing, the espresso machine, and the clanking of dishes. I can hear people typing on computers and shuffling papers and adjusting in the seats. There’s music playing, sounds like Regina Spektor at first, then Ben Folds “Rocking the Suburbs,” Weezer, and Bjork. I can hear the cash register, the sound of the door opening and closing. I hear a squeak, maybe tires from a car outside. I can hear the traffic, and the sound of fire engines and a horn. The phone rings. The sound of the espresso machine, or of The Coffee Guy steaming milk reminds me of Molly from high school and the time she worked at Burdick’s Cafe. She came over to Meg’s house one time with steamed milk and honey, she said it was her own concoction. I never liked her.