Ugly Sweaters
Cats from front to back. Today he was wearing a cat sweater, and not a cute one either. The long cats, probably Siamese, and on the back were the long tails standing tall displaying their butts. I preferred the one he wore yesterday. That one lit up in all its ugly glory. Better than cat asses.
Oh and he always got hot chocolate. Why come to a coffee shop for hot chocolate? I didn't understand Craig at all. It was eighty and above these days, what was he even doing? I don't think anyone understood him. He was always on time and always so weird. And this is coming from one of the town's freaks. But I was expectantly weird. Everyone knew me as the shakey counter boy with a loud voice. Twitches and spasms, nervous breakdowns and all.
But Craig was so weird. He had tattoos that peaked just above his ugly sweaters and piercings in his eyebrows and nose. And those ugly ass boots that he has worn since he was seventeen.
That ugly ass cat sweater, though. There was just something about cats that I didn't like at all. My experiences with them was never right because they are aliens and know that I know. Why did Craig decide to accost my eyes with that ugly thing today? I was stuck behind the register, glaring at that ugly sweater.
"Tweek," Shit. He saw me staring. Maybe his mind is being controlled by cat butts.
"What?" I didn't want him knowing how much I hated that sweater.
"Can I get another?" Oh no. They are onto me. He never gets more than one cup.
I make it for him anyway. Extra whip cream and chocolate chips, no charge. I wanted to get on the good side of the cat butts.
Their leader thanked me.
I watched him leave and hand it to the homeless man that sometimes sits outside. Then Craig came back in and stood in front of me blocking my view from the almost empty café. I didn't want to see that ugly cat sweater anymore. I had two customers to keep check on.
"What are you doing after this?" Craig askes, the same he's been asking for the past week. And I've given the same answer.
"Studying for finals."
He leans in, "Take a break. Let's go see a movie."
I sigh, "Craig—"
He places his hand on mine, "You look like you need a break."
I did. He was flirting with me and I liked it. But that sweater. That ugly cat butt sweater. Why did he wear them? Would he wear that out on a date? Would he actually embarrass me with some light up Christmas sweater in May? What was he even thinking? Why me? Why has he been trying to date me?
"Fine, you've broken me, Tucker, now get the hell out of my shop," I give him a forced smile.
"Really?" His face brightens up like his sweater did yesterday.
I nod in response before I watch him run out and call somebody on his phone. I chuckle to myself and wonder what movie we'll even watch. But I still hope he doesn't wear one of his ugly sweaters.
Can continue or not I'm not really sure. It's just some writing I found from finals and it's mediocre at best. Anyway thank you for the read. Love your time and support. Review or not I really don't care. Read my other shit (I cuss too much). And wear an ugly sweater in June.
