"How's your day?" asked the barista.
I was driving to the Little River Art Gallery to hear a local author talk about his latest book when I decided to stop at Egret Coffee Caffe and Dance Bar for an eye-opener. I got one alright! It popped up like the demon king in a Thai water opera.
I didn't immediately reply to the barista's question because my attention was arrested by a book displayed on the counter. The shop owner encourages artist/authors to display their craft near the point of purchase. It's part of the spirit of cooperation that permeates the downtown districts of Wilmawood.
The title of the book was "Living Your Best Life." The name had no zing, I thought, but the sub-title was in a different league altogether. It read: "The secrets they don't want you to know about the online economy and how you can make a 7-figure income working part-time from home." Well, I was intrigued.
"How's your morning going?" said the barista, having deduced that I was caught up in the book and not paying attention to her. I suddenly realized she had something on her mind and wanted to tell someone about it--anyone, apparently.
"Oh, sorry, my morning is going well," I said, and I was about to ask her the same, but she didn't wait to be asked. Good for her, I thought, seize the reins and all that.
"Mine's crap," she said. "I've totally lost my mojo. Something has gone wrong in my energy zone and everything is out of whack."
Certainly, life does feel uncomfortable sometimes I thought. Mine wasn't going so swimmingly at the moment either but I didn't want to air it in public. And yet, it seemed I should not ignore her cry for help. Was it a mistake? Only time will tell, I thought.
"Why do you feel that way?" I asked and I later decided it had been a mistake. I could simply have said, Sorry to hear it, and given her my drink order but no!
If you're a regular on The Circular Journey, you know about my strange compulsion to spread goodness and light everywhere I go. Showing personal interest in people's lives seems to be part of the job description.
"Well, yesterday Wanda and I went to see Wicked at The Point Theatre, and we were directed to theater number 2 where we sat for 45 minutes waiting for the movie to start. Can you believe it?"
"Wow, that's a long time to wait," I said, adopting a sympathetic tone of voice with matching a facial expression and complimentary posture. If you'd been watching, you would have rolled your eyes and shaken your head.
"Yeah, and that's not all," she said. "We were in the wrong theater. The movie had already started on another screen."
"That is unfortunate," I said.
"Unfortunate?" she said. "You would go so far as to say it was unfortunate? Well, what about this? I drank a yogurt parfait in the car on the way to the theater and didn't realize I'd spilled it on my sweatshirt until we were there. I smelled like a fruit salad. You think that was unfortunate, too?"
Claudia and Lupe began snickering behind me. Did I mention those two delinquents entered the caffe' mid-conversation and were now in line behind me?
"Drinking a yogurt parfait while driving isn't a good idea," I said.
"Duh!" she said. "So you think drinking a parfait while driving is a bad idea, do you? I should have consulted with you before leaving home."
I didn't like her tone but felt somehow that I'd asked for it.
"I'm sorry these things happened to you," I said, but now, instead of being truly empathetic, I was faking it and wondering how to wiggle out of the conversation.
"My girlfriend's psychic," she said, gazing into empty space. "She did a reading for me and said that one of my moons is out of orbit. Now my mojo is unbalanced."
"I wouldn't be too concerned about it," I said thinking that a light tone might be the best option to turn things around. "My friends often tell me that I'm unbalanced but it seems to correct itself without any action on my part."
She seemed to consider my words, tilting her head this way and that and back again.
"My friend said an asteroid may have strayed from deep space and passed too close to my energy field. Its gravitation field probably pulled one of my moons out of orbit."
The street urchins behind me must have lost faith in my handling of the conversation and decided to take steps to extricate me and salvage their morning coffee klatch.
"That sounds about right," said Claudia, nodding her head and looking to Lupe for support.
"Yeah, makes sense to me," said Lupe. "Stray asteroids often create disturbances."
I wished the girls had kept their pie holes shut, but the barista seemed to appreciate their comments. She did the head tilting again.
"All I know for sure is that my mojo is out of balance, and I'm keister-cakes out of luck. There's not much I can do about it until my moon gets back on track," she said.
I wish I could tell you that I practiced self-restraint at this point in the conversation. I wish I could tell you that I remained level-headed, knowing that the general public doesn't give a dingbat about physics. I wish I could, but I would be deceiving you.
"I'm sure that gravity doesn't work that way, I said, and I explained Einstein's theory of gravity and the curvature of spacetime.
I glanced at Lupe and Claudia and saw they were taking it big. Their eyes were saucer-like, and their mouths were hanging open. No doubt they were thinking they should have passed by Egret's when they saw my car parked out front.
"But Einstein," she said. "You know--uncertainty and all that...random things happening in the universe. I'm pretty sure he called it quantum jumping."
"Actually," I said and as soon as I said it, Lupe and Claudia were shaking their heads, poking me in the ribs, and saying things under their breath, like "Don't say it," and "Leave it alone," but I paid them no attention.
"Actually," I said, "quantum mechanics features the principle of uncertainty and quantum leaps. But Einstein's relativity theories answered questions about classical physics and that's the area that deals with the motions of moons and asteroids and whatnot.
Her face lit up, and her eyes grew wider. Her eyes may have twinkled, and I won't swear to it, but I'm pretty she giggled a little.
"Classical physics!" she exclaimed. "Physics is classical too? That's a toot!"
"Well, yes," I said, wondering why her attitude was transformed at the mention of classical physics. "But when I say classical, I'm talking about the physics often referred to as Newtonian. What do you mean when you say classical?"
"Like the ancient Greeks," she said.
"Oh, right, ancient Greek culture is often called classic."
"Classic!" she exclaimed. "Oh my heavens, classic doesn't half describe Herodotus. He was a scream on stage! He had them rolling in the aisles. Now, you were saying what about asteroids?"
The oomph I brought into the cafe had deserted me. It seemed the sun had ceased to shine. My two allies were following my oomph out the door. I should have passed by the caffe when I saw my car parked out front.