So I live here now. Just moved in this morning, actually, so this will be my first night in the new place. And yes, it is a coffeeshop. All these people sitting around drinking coffee really gives it away, I know.
The manager doesn't know I live here, and I'm not looking forward to telling him but I'll have to break it to him eventually. The barista suspects something. I've been here since 9:00 am, and I have no intention of leaving in the near future.
I can't sleep here; this isn't a library or a train station. Luckily, this establishment specializes in producing and selling the very thing that can keep me awake. Hopefully indefinitely. I started with the coffee at around 2 pm, and it's 11 now. As the evening drags on I get dragged along with it, and I do feel dragged. A cup of coffee every hour was more than enough at first, but soon I'll have to increase the dose as my body demands the rest I'm not allowed to deliver. The bill grows steadily but I have no money, and if I never leave I don't have to worry about paying it anyway. I don't want to provoke the baristas, so I keep quiet and sip my drink like I have been doing for the past fourteen hours. I read a book. I check my email. I write a bit on a notepad and carefully doodle caricatures of my fellow patrons. Life here is quieter than my old house, practically pastoral in comparison.
Soon I'll need two cups an hour to maintain the level of awareness that I've got going now. Then three, then four. Then one every ten minutes, then every five. In a couple days I might need to be on an IV drip. And soon that won't be enough either, and I'll need to move to pure caffeine. And then higher concentrations of that. The feasibility of this breaks down after examining the first day of so. But I can't sleep, I'll get kicked out. And I live here now, and who wants to be evicted before their second day? So I read, write, doodle, drink, dine on coffee cake, ignore the inevitable, and admire my new place. The lighting needs some work. A new paint job would really brighten that back wall up. And I'll have to get some—
"Sir, we're closing in ten minutes."
Oh, that will not do at all.