Open Notepad: Recollections, rants, and commentary

(2) Mused Thoughts - Baseball Cap

Two college students sit down in a branch cafe. Old friends with new lives ever since High School graduation.

On one side is S., returning back from his Military College first year experience.  He's clean shaven with a fresh buzz-cut. His youthful cheeks and facial features have given away to a square jawed, cut, and aggressive look in his eyes. A sort of pride, teetering on the edge of it being a sin. He's been through hell and back, and upholds a sort of boldness and defiance against the popular society he reemerges back into. He's still in a bit of culture shock of the new life he's entered, and realized how much the outside world has shifted around him. He is the older of the two, wiser, sharper, and often acted as the "older brother" of this childhood friendship. He keeps a low voice, barely raising it in anger, and generally more reserved and methodical. He ordered plain black, piping hot coffee and added nothing to it.

On the other side is J. A self-proclaimed "good" Catholic. He's a "me-generation", encircling himself into the typical college lifestyle. Good drinks, good friends, good food. Too little money, with too many expenses. Designer clothes, upscale chain restaurants, movie tickets, guitars, and cheap dates. He's coming back to his hometown, meeting old friends but with the new opportunities to his downtown. His childish antics and dotting parents still hang around, and still has traces around him that carry over in his attitude. He's generally known as the more of the playful "cool" of the two. He has a Starbucks latte, a coffee grossly drowned out by raw sugar and additives that detract from the original brew. 

J.: "What's with that baseball cap?" 

S.: "What this?" 

J.: "Yeah. That,"

S. Lifts off his black baseball cap. It's ragged, beaten. The black color is stained with dark blotches of some crusty dried liquid that gave some purple red tinge. Dirt and mud have stained the black with small dark brown blotches. The brim's stitching at the front is wearing down. The front of the cap has a spot of fuzzy velcro, covered by a military patch of a black and white American Flag. The patch isn't made of cloth, it has some sort of shiny vinyl on it, and the vinyl's already shown bad signs of wear of the infrared hexagon pattern underneath.

S.: "What's wrong with it?"

J.: "It's ugly as shit dude."

S.: "Your problem. I'm wearing it." 

J.: "Dude if you wanna get girls, you have to get something nice like me. That baseball cap just makes you a weirdo. Besides the American flag on it looks retar-"

(S  cuts him off)

S.: "Yeah, why?"

J.: "It looks fucked up dude, get a new one, like it. Why would you even buy a hat already beat up?"

S.: "Why wear jeans with pre-ripped knees?" 

J.: "Well, because they're comfortable."

S.: "Yeah, same reason, this caps comfortable."

J.: "Still doesn't explain the flag patch,"

(S. frowns at him.)

S.: "This flag's been through hell with me. I earned this flag. It's a part of me dude. I did my time and -"

J.: "Woah dude, chill. It's just a flag, don't need to get serious."

S.: "To you it is, to me, it isn't."

(J. Sips on his coffee)

J.: "Dude, they really changed you."

S.: "Yeah, they did. Because I actually am doing college seriously and not messing around." 

(J. pauses)  

J.: "...what do you mean?"

S.: "Alright, enough with the circling around. Why'd you do it? Seriously dude. Seriously? I have to home to all these issues, all this, and this, this happens. You're in college. College. You're supposed to be-"

J.: "Supposed to be what? I'm in college. It's normal dude. She was asking for it."

S.: "Oh, a few casual text messages here and there is asking for it?"

J.: "Dude she probably told you it was more than a few casual text-"

S.: "Look, I don't care about her okay. She left me when I got the boot out of the house. We were still friends. Truth of the matter is, relationship doesn't matter. The thing I'm really concerned about is the fact from what I heard and found out, is I'm disappointed."

J.: "What for?"

S.: "I'm disappointed that you didn't have the moral courage to do the right thing, I'm disappointed you didn't think through what the hell you were getting into. You knew what would happen, but you didn't it anyway. Now I have a girl who's literally on the mental edge. The mental edge. You knew it yourself she needed help, and she was seeing help, but you decide to just push her off that edge and take advantage of her!"

A few patrons raise their eyebrows at the exchange as S. raises his voice.

J.: "Dude, chill, stop making it a big deal- chill dude -"

S.: "Chill, really? That's what you want to tell me?"

J.: "Dude she's just a girl. She can get over it-"

S.: "Yeah she definitely is going to get over it. Sure. In a perfect world,"

J.: "Dude seriously the military messed you up. You're messed up in the-"

S.: "I'm messed up? You better figure out who you're talking to. Square this stuff up. Fix it, now."

The patrons are getting wary as S. gets up, crossed arms in front of J., who's grinning with either laughter or nervousness. 

S.: "Fix this dude. Fix it. You wanted my help to 'fix your problem', you're in a big hole that you might not crawl out of."

S. picks up his empty coffee, throwing it in the trash can as he gives one more look of scorn at him, before leaving.