A cup of Joe.

Special thanks to http://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/

Prompt:You realize you aren't the main character of the story.







       Seems like an odd life to be living. Everyday comes in with the same old sunrise, and yet it' is different every time because the sun comes shining in on a totally different story each day. Lives change, and the people rearrange, there's no telling what that burning yellow ball has seen. I know this much, I know what I've seen, and what I've seen ain't pretty. The city is a harsh mistress, she's tough, she's gritty, and if these walls could talk, well they'd swear like a sailor recounting the stories they've seen. I suppose in the end we've all seen some stuff eh? I take another swig of my coffee. It's black, just like I always take it. The bitter sour taste of the cheap beverage rolls down my tongue and starts tearing holes in my stomach. If I would just have something to eat it would probably remedy the stomach ache but to tell you the truth, I don't think I could stomach a meal, not with the things I've seen. I never ate at this diner. What a life. As I set my drink down it lets loose a ceramic thud on the diner table. The sound is lost amongst the rest of the clatter in the busy restaurant. I came here everyday, at the same time, and ordered the same thing. A cup of Joe for a guy named Joe. It's all I need, just a little pick me up while I escape the terrors of the city for a half hour or so. I leave the same tip, for the same waitress everyday, unless she is sick or something, or has her friend's wedding to go to, then I leave the same tip for a different waitress who is covering her shift. All this time I could recognize her face anywhere, but I don't even know the dame's name.She knows mine though. Says it when she walks up and says,

"You need a refill Joe?"

       "No, I'm fine thanks."

"Alright well let me know when you're ready for the check."

I decide that today I'm gonna ask her.

       "Say, what's your name doll?"

She rolls her eyes just barely but I saw it, and points to her name tag. I knew she wanted me to read it , but I just kept looking at her, right in those dreary eyes. Finally she caves and politely answers.

"It's Java." and tapped on her metallic name badge with a long manicured nail.

       Java walked away to tend to her other patrons. I was left with a bitter taste like the coffee I was drinking, what kind of name is Java? I preferred her as just waitress, now this was probably going to change things about our relationship. Was she going to expect me to call her that from now on? Does she need a bigger tip now that we're on a first name basis? Complication that's what this is, life is complicated eh? Not as complicated as my love life though. That's a whole other story, bet the sun knows that story as well. Any way it all started when I saw her across the....Joe interrupted his own dialogue once he saw the camera pointing at him being rolled away.

"Hey where are you going?"

       "Huh? The scene is over we are moving on."

"Whatdaya mean, my monologue just got going."

       "Your monologue? what are you talking about? We have to get these cameras set up across town and shoot the next sequence, we are finished with the diner shots."

"Nobody said nothing about going cross town, and why would you interrupt me when I was on such a roll? You can't be done with the diner shots, I haven't even finished my cup of Joe, and I just got to the good part where I tell about my broken heart and spiteful lovers."

The camera crew had cleared the majority of the equipment out of the small diner already. The busy crowd suddenly started clearing out, leaving food and unpaid bills on the table. Java put her hands up into her hair and loosened a red wig in the shape of a beehive from off her head, revealing pinned up brunet locks.

"I didn't know Java wore a wig!" Joe was severely confused and continued to watch as his frequented diner started to come apart. People removed costumes to reveal a totally different person underneath. Java too removed her pinstripe uniform and was wearing a black tank top and jean shorts underneath. An assistant was standing behind a table with a clip board handing out belongings; purses, coats, and the like. Java grabbed her bag from him and walked out of the restaurant.

"But...I didn't even pay yet."

       "Oh all payments are done through the mail, we have your information from the waiver you signed at the start of this."

"The start of what?"

       Joe frantically looked around. Someone knocked over the jukebox in the corner as they walked by. It fell flat and turned out to be nothing but a painted piece of cardboard. One by one familiar staples of the diner scenery collapsed into props. Microphones were unhinged from all over the place, and chords were gathered up and wrapped neatly away from seemingly every nook and cranny. The vibrant establishment Joe had come to know disappeared and left behind a dark warehouse with nothing but a few forgotten decorations and some prop tables and booths. All around him black colored v-neck shirts darted about gathering up things and cleaning out the dreary space. Joe snapped his fingers at the assistant he had been talking with.

"Hey you, tell me what the devil is going on. I thought I was being filmed for the news on account of me solving that missing person case."

       "Right...good character? Except we aren't the news and we have to start filming the other scenes."

"I thought this was about me."

        "What? No you were just an extra, nobody was really sure why you were even talking. We were filming the table in the corner opposite of you, they're the real stars."

"hmph..."

       Joe couldn't think of anything else to say. A moment of awkward silence passed and the assistant scurried out, leaving Joe behind in the dim industrial lit warehouse. Joe sat back down in his booth, it had been left behind but was crooked now. Dust could be seen dancing in the beams of light from the standard fixtures hung from the warehouse ceiling. It settled on the unsettling scene, landing in on Joe's bewildered head and in his coffee. He took another sip and had to fight from spitting it out. It was cold now, and had a film of dust on it. After a second he composed himself, after all it didn't taste that much worse than it usually did. He sat in the silence finishing his drink, staring out at the morning sun. For a moment he reposed, and then calmly started his monologue again.

       So there I was sitting alone in the dusty diner I had called my home. Except some cruel twist of fate had stolen that home from me. I knew the city was harsh, but today she had been crueler to me than any of my ex-loves. The sun sure did have a story to tell this time.

       Joe looked at the window as he spoke and as he did a film began to roll off of the pane. It rolled up the scene of morning and the city beyond. The sun slipped under into the tunnel of the rolling sheet and the whole mirage fell to the ground crinkling as it landed. It revealed behind it the unfinished wood paneling of the set.

"Not even a window!" Joe threw his mug at the wall and it shattered like the illusion that was his life just moments ago. The impact shook the adjacent window and the scene unraveled off the wall just as before revealing another wooden panel in its' place. Joe stormed out and kicked one of the left over booths from the fake diner as he went. The booth scooted across the floor and made a sound like nails on a chalkboard as the legs scraped across the concrete. Once Joe made it outside, he took a few deep breaths and inserted his hands into his pockets where they made balled fists inside. He took a great sigh to clear the air, and ease the mood and then again bravely began his monologue one last time.

       So it wasn't even day time. I was walking under the cold glance of a judgmental night skyline. The cruel city was laughing at me, and the sun had no story to tell. The walls didn't either, they had turned out to be a pack of lairs anyways. As a private eye I had seen a lot of things, but I never saw this one coming. Day turned to night, Java turned into a brunet, my heart turned to stone, and the diner I had come to every day turned out to be a fraud. The story was my life and I wasn't even the main character. Seems like an odd life to be living.