Her lips pucker and her face climbs over itself.

“UGH! How do you drink that stuff?  It’s so…bland.”

Reina’s a pretty a pretty girl with red hair-dye fading into dark roots.   With her arms resting on the table at the elbows, she looks long and wiry.  Proportionally, her legs are a few inches too short for the rest of her body.  She has a perfect smile except for a chipped bottom tooth that no one ever notices.  Reina is constantly twisting and cracking an achy back.  The pain is mostly caused by the excessive weight in her bra. 

“I like the taste,” Sam answers.  He shrugs his shoulders and takes another sip.  “Tastes good to me.”

From across the table, Reina stares at her friend.  There’s judgment in her eyes.  Her eyebrows dip and her eyes focus on his.

“What?  What are you looking at?”  Sam asks.

“I don’t understand you.”

Sam’s eyes make a quick shift, left, then right, and then back at Reina.  “So…”

“What do you mean ‘so’?  Look, Sam, I’ve know you for what…over five years now, right?”

Sam nods his head.

“And all the time I’ve know you, you haven’t had a girlfriend.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying you need one, I’m just saying…”

“What, that you think I’m a loser who can’t get a girlfriend?”

“No!  Shut up.  You know what I mean.”  Reina uses the edge of the table to twist and crack her back.  “Look at you, you’re handsome.  You’re tall, your hair is better than mine, you dress well, but on top of all that – girls like you.  I’ve seen it myself.   When we hang out, you don’t think I notice them looking at you?”

Sam’s chin drops with a smile and he shakes his head.

“It’s happening right now.  The girl to my right…your left, she’s pretending not to, but she’s looked at you at least five times since we’ve been here.  Ah, don’t look now!”

“All these girls like you.  I’ve seen you flirt with a few people, but I’ve never seen you interact with someone for more than a few minutes.  I’ve actually thought about this before.  But now…now I think I know what the problem is.”

Sam scratches the back of his head, “Yeah, I know what it is too.  I’m boring! I eat the same three foods every day, I don’t like to go out dancing, and I drink bland coffee.  Women don’t want to hang out with the guy who drinks bland coffee.”

“That’s exactly your problem…Only without all the words you just said.”

“What?”

“Do you know what boredom means?”  Reina takes out her phone and begins tapping at the screen.  “Boredom:  a feeling of displeasure due to a conflict between a need for intensive psychological activity and lack of stimulation or inability to be stimulated thereto.”

“You’re not boring Sam.  You’re one of my most fascinating friends.  You know so much shi… about so much shit.  Sure, we’re not always on the same page – and yes, your coffee tastes like motor oil, but I think I know you pretty well, and the last thing I would describe you as is boring.”

Sam shifts uncomfortably in his chair.

“People think that boredom is an internal thing.  They think that it comes from someone’s brain working at dial-up speed and that makes them boring.  That’s not the case at all.  When people say, “I’m bored,” that usually isn’t the case.  The phrase is overused.  People are just lazy.  If they were bored, they’d find something to do.

Sam’s head aims at Reina, “You’re telling me you never get bored?”

Reina leans back against the chair.  There’s an audible crack, “I do get bored, but let me explain.  People think that boredom comes from not having anything to do.  I think boredom comes from being forced to not have anything to do.  Does that make sense?”

“Ummm…not really.”

“See, when I’m at home, lying on the couch, scrolling through Netflix – I’m never bored.  Even if I can’t find anything to watch, I’m still not bored.  If I was bored, I’d get up and do something else.  Now let’s say, I was at work.  At work, I have to sit behind a computer.  I’m not allowed to do anything else.  And yeah, sometimes that causes mind-numbing boredom.  But that’s only because I have to be there.”

“Boredom shouldn’t be attributed to the bored person – boredom’s enforced.  Boredom is a shitty job.  Boredom is a prison sentence.  Just because someone’s not being inundated with information for a few minutes, doesn’t mean they’re bored.  Maybe they’re restless, maybe they’re anxious, but they’re probably not bored.”

“What does this have to do with me and girls?”

“Stop acting like you’re boring!  Girls like you, Sam.  Unless you’re holding someone hostage, you’re not being boring.  I’m never bored with you.  We have good conversation.  We talk shit and laugh, and you drink bland coffee.  You’re simple – not boring.  Once you understand that…”

Reina reaches across the table, grabs Sam’s coffee and takes another sip.  Her face twists again.  She swallows and wipes her lips, “I don’t know what happens after you get that through your head.  You’re not boring, Sam.  Your coffee is atrocious, but you’re not boring.”