Float On

Part 2

I've been standing at the door in my living room with my hand on the doorknob for about 10 minutes now. The mental list of steps for going from point A to point B I've been keeping has been double checked about five times. I have my keys, wallet, and phone. I'm going to simply walk down the stairs, out the door and to the crosswalk at the corner. I'm going to check for cars, but keep my eyes lower than about 4 feet off the ground. That should keep the words from being in my line of sight and still prevent me from running into anyone. I'm going to walk into the shop, order an iced caramel macchiato and then come home. Simple.

With one last deep breath, I turn the knob and step out into the hall. I stand quietly, listening for any sort of noise before I lock the door behind me. I walk tentatively down the hall to the staircase where I slowly make my way down to the first floor. When I open the door leading outside, I can feel myself starting to panic, so I step to the side and lean against the building for support, trying to slow down my pounding heart. I briefly consider calling the whole thing off and running back upstairs, but after a few minutes and an internal pep talk, I venture forward to the crosswalk. The signal is already in my favor, so after a quick glance back and forth I practically sprint across the street before skidding to a sudden halt before I run into a loud group of people on their way into the restaurant next door. Frozen, I stare down at my shoes as they pass, jostling into me along the way.

I look up to find myself standing right in front of the glass door leading into the coffee shop. To my relief, there are maybe two or three people scattered around the store which is exactly what I was hoping. I push my way through the door and step inside, instantly enveloped in the delicious smell of coffee and baked goods. I hesitatingly approach the counter, keeping my eyes glued to the menu despite already knowing what I want.

"Hi! What can I get for you?" the barista chirps.

"Hi," I start, not meeting her eyes. "A large iced caramel macchiato please." I reach into my wallet and slide a five dollar bill across the counter.

After she hands me my change, she turns away to make my drink. If I'm going to be able to function in public, I'm going to have to get used to seeing those god awful floating words. I take a few deep breaths and look at the barista and slowly let my eyes trail up to the space above her head.

'Has irrational fear of cats'

Relief floods my body and I almost laugh. Ok, that was an easy one. Feeling a little bit braver, I look around the shop, taking in as much as possible while she finishes making my drink. From what I can tell, there are three other customers, all of whom appear to be reading, but I don't dare let my gaze linger on them. The shop is even larger than what it looks like from my balcony. The central area has several small café tables and wooden chairs in addition to the comfortable stuffed couches and chairs further towards the back. I make a mental note and decide that my next goal will be to drink my coffee here instead of taking it home.

I turn back to the counter just as the cat fearing barista sets my drink down on the counter with a smile. With a final look around me, I grab the beverage and quickly head to the door, not wanting to tempt fate. Just as I reach for the handle, a group of three college age guys push their way through and I hop out of the way just in time.

"Sorry about that," one of them says nicely, holding the door for me.

"Thanks," I mumble back, instinctively ducking my head down, but not before I see the words floating above him.

'Doesn't wear underwear.'

I get all the way outside before I laugh hard enough to almost spill my drink. Making my way across the street and back home without incident, I feel more hopeful than I have for the past six months.