To be fair, it wasn’t only Gabe’s physical beauty that drew me to him. His verbal and intellectual dexterity were partly responsible. But still, in retrospect: do not marry. Divorcing a clever, witty man is no fun at all.

Monday, 12 January 2015

Gabe’s already there when I arrive at Dempster’s Café. He’s holding his iPhone in one hand and typing on his MacBook Air with the other. I don’t need to take a closer look to know that he’s got at least four tabs open on his laptop. Why doesn’t he—

I stop myself mid-thought. Gabe is not my responsibility any more. If he wants to try to do too much at once, that’s his problem. That and his drug addiction.

‘Oh, you’re here,’ he says, looking up. ‘Get a drink – I’ll be with you in five.’

Minutes. You have to add minutes.

‘Is your meeting with yourself running late?’ I say mock-sweetly.

‘Are you comparing a work conversation by email to masturbation?’

‘I was thinking more of self-absorption than anything sexual, but now you mention it …’

‘Ha! You’re doing it!’

‘What?’

‘I feel like a school teacher suspected of pushing illicit chocolate doughnuts onto already overweight schoolchildren.’

‘What?’

‘You’re assessing the size of my pupils.’ Gabe grins. ‘And drawing bad conclusions.’

‘That’s the worst joke I’ve ever heard,’ I tell him. On the substantive issue, he’s right. ‘It’s a hard habit to break. I’m afraid it’ll carry forward into any relationship I have from now on. I’ll stare into the eyes of future beloveds, searching for pupil dilation of the drug-induced variety.’

‘No one would put up with that apart from me.’

‘Is that because you’re an extra-special saint?’ I relent and finally respond to his smile with one of my own. ‘I need a coffee – do you want another?’

Gabe shakes his head. ‘Already had two.’

Dempster’s was his choice, not mine. I don’t like the way they use every inch of wall space to try and flog appalling ‘computer art’ and I don’t like their customers. It’s almost against the rules to come in here without at least one Apple device – Gabe and I have argued about this before, and I still maintain it’s not just a modern life thing. There’s a café three doors down where you can walk in at any time and not see a single MacBook or iPad mini. Dempster’s is the kind of place that might at any moment decide it’s not a café but a ‘connectivity hub’ or some such nonsense; if you order a slice of cake here, you get it on a plank of wood or a shard of black slate.