boys club

It’s no secret Bad Annie prefers the company of men. I’d happy have sex with either gender but generally, girls are tiresome. I don’t want to talk about my feelings, I don’t want to gossip, and although I like your dog, I don’t want to talk about your kids.

I love my neighborhood coffeeshop. I go there every morning, it’s a ritual thing. All the regulars know each other, the baristas keep us up to date on neighborhood gossip. Weekends are a crush and I don’t enjoy it much, but weekday mornings are a haven.

I realized last week that I hadn’t been enjoying it as much for a while, until recently when it got nice again. And then it struck me: school had been out over the holidays, and so the mommys took over the coffeeshop with the kids. And now it had gone back to the boys club, me and handful of guys, occasionally another woman but someone like me. We make conversation in quieter tones. We crack sarcastic jokes. We drink our coffee and read the communal newspapers and go about our day.

I was still focused on that revelation when I went in this morning. Saturday and filled with non-regulars, crowded and noisy. The manager recognized the look on my face and said something about wanting the early morning boys club back. Funny we both hit on that description at the same time.