Villainous

May 15, 2017

Greetings from the next in line,

It is a busy place, so much that in spite of being in there on a regular basis, there is no reason to think I would be remembered.  The baristas behind the counter always greet me with friendly but generic exchanges that could be plugged in for any of the next in line.  As much as I like meeting people, I am here for the coffee.

Behind the counter a young man is working the drive through lane, headset pinching his long hair back.  He catches my eye and says hello and shakes his head.  “Every time I see you,” he says over the noise, “I think you must be, like, some kind of super villain.”

Right about then I am handed my tall-sumatra-with room-thank you-have an-awesome-day, and since I can only concentrate on one thing at a time I choose the coffee over a witty response.

This is the kind of thing that normal people ignore in their day, as well they should.  But for some reason it stuck with me.  Why would anyone think I looked like a super villain?  Have I developed a resting-face that inspires that kind of reaction?  I looked in my rear view mirror and tried smiling; it looked like a super villain getting his license renewed at the DMV.

Maybe a week later I was back in line.  I had mostly forgotten the exchange until the young man spotted me again.  He waved and said hello, smiling and shaking his head.  He said something to one of his coworkers and pointed at me: “This guy reminds me of, like, a super villain.”

 He stepped closer to the counter:  “What do you do?” he asked me.

“I devise plans intent on world domination.” I said.  I took my coffee and left, with what I supposed would have been an air of villainous mystery.

It is revealing to hear what kind of impression I make to strangers.  I suppose this barista could have guessed my profession as lawyer or hit man or politician, all of whom might have been represented in movies and media as a guy in a suit and tie.  But for reasons that will remain unknown, he had me pegged me as super villain.

In a way it is flattering.  I am probably the least villainous person I know, but it tells me that maybe it’s still possible.  I have evil potential that someone saw in me.

A few weeks later I walked into the Starbucks and ordered my coffee. The young man picked up right where we left off.

“We have to come up with a name for you.” he said.

The barista waiting on me, who had no clear idea what was going on, gave us both confused looks.  Was this going to complicate my coffee order?  Would she be writing a new name on the side of the cup?

“A super villain name.” he said to her, as if that would clear everything up.  I said nothing, which contributed just as much to help the situation.

“Let’s see.  What superpower would you choose?” he asked, ignoring the look from the other people in line.

“Invisibility.” I said, not missing a beat.  I reconsidered my answer later but you can’t go back and change.  It’s the rules.   Plus if I had waited much longer there may have been some kind of revolt in the line behind me. 

This did not immediately inspire a moniker of sufficient wicked ilk, so as I walked out he tried again:

“What is your favorite animal?”

“Invisible giraffe.” I said.  Again, a moment later I wanted to change, but …the rules.

He nodded and smiled as if this would be enough for him to work with.

Goldfinger, Doctor Octopus, Dr. No, Darth Vader, General Zod.  I don’t know how these super villains got their start, or earned their name.  It might not have been in line at Starbucks, but who knows? 

It’s exciting to think that I have lived this long, accomplished as I am already, and I still have this whole other nefarious earth-conquering future in front of me.  I admit I haven’t really developed my villainous personality, other than this diabolical demeanor, so maybe it will be a challenge. But I feel like with my invisible giraffe at my side anything is possible.

Hope this finds you ruling the world,

David

Copyright © 2017 David Smith