“I am so done with people,” Greta sighed as she sank down into the chair across from Mia, latté in hand. She struggled out of her winter coat, and felt her back warm from the sunlight streaming in. It was busy for a Tuesday afternoon in their favorite coffee shop near campus. Mia looked at Greta over her glasses, textbooks and pads of paper spread out on the table.
“I’m surprised you wanted to meet me here, if you are so off people,” she said dryly.
“You’re not people,” Greta smirked, taking a sip of her coffee and moaning. “I don’t know what they put in this, but it’s so good.”
“Don’t change the subject,” Mia said, and concern flickered across her face.
“What do you mean?” Greta said innocently, glancing around the shop so she didn’t have to look at her friend’s face.
“I mean you keep saying how much you hate people, how much you don’t want to be around people, and I know how much you actually do avoid people. Have you hung out with anyone besides me this month?”
Greta grabbed her cup, raising it like a shield. “Why would I need to hang out with anyone else when you are such a great friend? I don’t need that much human contact.”
“Of course you do,” Mia said, taking off her glasses and rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Greta, I’ve known you for years. You are always happier when you spend more time out in the world, actually interacting with people. Yes,” she raised her hand, stopping Greta’s protest, “I know you’re an introvert and get tired around people, yadda yadda, but come on, Greta, even you know that under your misanthropic veneer you actually do like people and want to be around them.”
Greta glared at Mia, but not for long. “Remind me again why you aren’t going to grad school for psychology?”
“Because I don’t want to deal with that stuff all day, every day,” Mia said crisply. “Analyzing you is just a hobby.”
They sat in amiable silence for a few minutes, as Greta drank her coffee and Mia rearranged her books.
“It just seems like the world has stopped caring,” Greta finally said, and Mia glanced up, waiting for her to continue.
Greta sighed again. “Like, no one cares about learning anymore, you know? I TA all these classes, and the kids just don’t want to be there, and they only want to get a good or passing grade and move on. No one wants to engage with the material, or challenge their thinking, or take risks with their work.
“And you look at society, right, and the job market is just about how much money you can make, how much labor you can produce, and it’s not about how you can help other people, or about making things better. No one looks around and thinks, ‘Huh, just because I can do this thing, should I?’
“And then you look at politics, and the global scale, and all of that is just such a shitshow. Everyone is out to maintain their own power and not help anyone, not make changes to the system that are sorely needed when they have the power to do so.” Greta glanced around, but the low hum of the busy shop covered her voice.
“And even interpersonally, most people are just out for themselves, for what they want and what they need. When was the last time you saw someone do something for someone else just because it was needed, or a nice thing to do? When was the last time you saw someone actually step out of their own point of view and try to understand someone else, from where they are coming from?”
Greta shrugged, taking another sip of coffee. “I am tired of giving people the benefit of the doubt, and being disappointed over and over again. It’s like that 80s song. ‘Owner of a lonely heart/ much better than a/ owner of a broken heart.’ I’d rather be lonely than hurt or disappointed.”
Mia fiddled with her pens, then sighed. “Damn.”
Greta laughed. “Yeah, pretty much.”
Mia looked thoughtful. “I guess I get your point. But there are people out there, people who care.”
“I know,” Greta said, grinning. “You’re one.”
This made Mia laugh. “Well, thanks, I guess. But seriously, Greta, people like that are out there. You just need to find them.”
“They’re all hiding out like I am,” Greta grumbled. “I need a muffin. Want a muffin?”
“Sure,” Mia smiled, and watched as Greta went up to the glass food case and chatted animatedly with guy behind the counter. You’d never know how much of a loner she was by watching her, Mia thought. I hope things turn around for her, soon. She just has to meet the right people. Hell, the right person, to help her believe in people again.
“Thanks,” she said, taking the muffin plate from Greta as she returned to the table. Then she grinned. “I think this was meant for you,” she said, waving the napkin from under the muffin. Greta snatched it from Mia’s hand, stared down at the numbers scrawled across it, then looked over at the counter with a look of shock on her face. Mia saw the guy wave, then nudged her friend.
“Close your mouth, smile, and wave back,” Mia said, trying not to laugh as her friend did so, her face turning redder and redder. “Maybe people aren’t so bad after all,” Mia said, and couldn’t hide the laughter from her voice anymore. Greta mumbled something, glaring at Mia, who just laughed again, shaking her head and going back to her books.
© The Lightning Tower, 2020