Enter the Sloth

Both the hip and the happening populated the cafe. Wannabe writers, comfortably leftist yuppies, the late night bar rats - all congregated 24 hours a day. The pricey menu gave a certain snob appeal but no one thought less of the coffee sipper and his book. Upscale funky. Conversation ranged from the superfluous to the sublime. A place in another lifetime where I would have loved to hung out.

Actually, I wanted to hang out there in this lifetime, too. Enter the sloth.

It wasn't true, but I felt all eyes on me. How could I not? With my brown scaly skin, the two wobbly antennae jutting from my head and the aura of a creature from the swamp - who could not notice that?? The plan had been the straight bluff: I'm OK, you're OK. But my bluff amounted to only a failed smile and nervous nodding. You're OK, I'm a sloth. Damn I wish I'd kept my human characteristics.

My scales are shedding all over table as I wait for the waitress. Quickly, I scamper to clear them off. Later, when they come to clean, they will be found. A moment of shame to live in absentia. But the goal for now is to keep the bluff alive. I exceedingly impress upon my order taker my normalness as I point out my desire for a ham and cheese omelette like any other human. Besides, I got your money god - you gotta serve me!


Damn thing is expensive. Hope I still enjoy it knowing the cost. The ordering ordeal is over, time now for the newspaper prop. People should see me reading and ask my opinions of current events. I'm informed, insightful and intelligent. Why not include me? Oh yeah, I'm a sloth. Once, I really was asked and fumbled the reply so badly all I got was patronizing smiles and a quick resumption of conversation without me. Maybe there's no such thing as a smart sloth.

My pleasant surprise as the food arrives is well rehearsed. My lobster claws grab the utensils as I attack the meal with a furious vengeance. See my appetite for life! The omelette is pretty damn good so I lose some of my angst over the money lost. But my sloth brain starts to click in. Are those people staring at me as they leave? Would I impress the cashier if I thanked her in Japanese? Damn I wish I could stay in this world for real!

Parting truly is sweet sorrow. Outside the door I can breathe once more - and once more be the man on the outside looking in. I want to burst out with my human side before it's too late. There's more to me than what you see! I swear! ...or maybe not – I’ve got this scaly skin for a reason. I bow my head and pay in my usual silence as I depart for the waiting gutter. A friendly voice bids me adieu.

"Have a good night, Mr. Kafka.