The coffee scalds my tongue and I leap into the air as if a fire had been lit under my ass. I land flustered and check for anyone lucky enough to witness the quiet act of absurdity. There's no one to the left, but to the right sits a man clothed in battered overalls with a beard as long as his withered face. Our eyes meet and he makes it clear the moment did not go unseen. He tips his cap in my direction as I study his tired eyes, his flappy cheeks, his watercolor frown. I feel honored to now play a part in what must be a life gone completely overlooked. He swivels back to face his food as I grab the water glass from my table and smash it across my left forearm. The blood runs purple.