The social distancing restrictions enforced on cafes by the Welsh government will be lifted in two weeks. Meanwhile, I, who miss the closeness of watching, drawing and listening to my fellow coffee shop customers, have to bide my time. ‘They are too far away’, I moan to my partner, frustrated that I can’t capture the faces of those I have come to love drawing. I make do and concentrate on the queue intent on rushing to catch details like shoes or hats, or the way they hold their bodies while they wait.
It’s so much harder to do. I have to draw quickly, almost before my brain is engaged. I opt for simple materials, a fountain pen and a water pen. It’s a hit and miss process. I also focus on the faces I know, like the small, middle-aged man with the big ears, who always nods at my partner prompting him to say to my afterwards, ‘I’ve no idea who he is.’ On Saturday he came in with a woman, one can only presume it was his wife, who brought a lurcher. They both petted and fussed over the dog and, swearing under my breath, I struggled to pin them down.
The next day he came alone and sat staring into the distance.
His hair is almost white blonde. And when he walks it’s with a slight limp making it more of a roll than a step. There was also the man we now call Dylan Thomas.
His stance tells of his gaucheness and social awkwardness, though he tries hard to engage with the staff. They are fond of him, clearly. And he comes back and back for more coffee. Time and time again I fail to capture him. It’s so subtle that lean of his. As is the sadness in his sloping eyes, shadowy. He has a look of Eeyore. Sometimes he comes in with his father (at least they look alike). I heard him tell the manage that they were going to Swansea for the day to visit an auntie. ‘I’ll give you a bit of advice,’ she said, ‘don’t go to the MacDonald’s at Cross Hands, me and my friend, she’s a meat-eater both got food-poisoning there.’
Lap dogs seem to dominate the weekends in there. Owners have them on their laps feeding them titbits and remaining staunchly oblivious to the annoyance of their sharp, strident barks.
Children proliferate also. Though I have to admit that I like the cacophony that is created. It’s a warmth of sorts and I become absorbed in it. Roll on the end of the month.
