It Smelled Like Coffee

I’m back to my coffee drinking mode. Here at a coffee shop along F. Ramos St. I patiently waited for my brother Lester to get off from his duty at a government hospital. I missed this joint for several months already. Somehow, I was drawn back to the loving aroma of coffee.I thought it was coffee.

I thought I smelled roasted beans mixed with the aroma of freshly brewed Arabica. I got inside the shop and thought about ordering a nice cup of mocha froccino. Just as I was about to say “one froccino mocha tall” to the barrista, I noticed a very strong odour hovering about the coffee counter.

I realized that the smell wasn’t that of the coffee but from something else. Or from someone. Instinct would tell a person to scan the place and pin-point the source of such sensation. My nose was searching the entire coffee area and it pointed toward the direction of a man sitting at the corner of the shop. At this point i wont be discussing anything about the man’s physical trait. I feared that many might brand me as racist or something.

Anyways, the smell of “coffee” thus emanated from him. He sat comfortably alone in a corner where empty tables and chairs surround him. He had his earphones on as he stared blankly at the window, oblivious to the stern eyes of other customers. I, as a customer was deeply troubled by the smell. It was like vanquishing the supposedly “inviting” smell of coffee. I totally feared that if I light a matchstick, the entire place might explode.

People inside the shop were just too shy to ask the guy to leave. The barrista and the crew could not even make him take a seat outside. It’s impolite to do so. I looked into their faces and I could see how distracted they were of the smell. His was so intense and offensive that one could feel like rushing out of the shop to breathe fresh air.

It was so powerful and disgusting that I almost forgot what coffee to order.I remembered froccino mocha and then I made a mad dash to the exit. I had no choice but to sit outside. I rather let the rain fall and drench me to death than be a hostage to the terrible stench from a clueless man.

As I decide on where to sit, I told the crew that they may have suffered temporarily because only a few customers came. Certainly no one wanted to sit around a cloud of disgusting aroma.

So it smelled like coffee: a disturbingly rotten coffee.