At first, nobody noticed the odd looking character sitting at the back of the café.
He had a Mohican haircut that sported all the colours of the rainbow. His cheeks, forehead and neck where tattooed. His tattered pilot’s jacket was covered with badges and stickers. His skin was sickly pale and his eyes were bloodshot. His general appearance was strange, yet this was what he had deliberately created for himself. Before he managed to escape the family home, his father used to say he looked like a parrot. This would never deter him. It was his life after all, and he would live it his way. He had a windfall that morning, begging outside of the bus station. He hadn’t had a decent meal for days and it was hunger that had taken him there, this was supposed to be a real treat.
However, the fact was, he was eating too fast when it happened. He had barely started on his chicken and chips when he began to choke. Whatever it was, it was stuck fast. He tried desperately to cough it up, but it wouldn’t move. For the first minute or two he tried desperately to keep the embarrassing situation to himself. When he realised he couldn’t swallow or cough he began to panic. He got to his feet and began soft grunting noises. His eyes were now bulging and he was flailing his arms around wildly.
Other customers couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. Not because he was choking to death, but because he was obviously demented. Most figured drugs were involved. It was a sad reflection on society that it was becoming so common. Nobody seemed to notice that the blue of his face began to match some of the colours in his fanned hair style. After a few minutes of this performance he slumped back into his chair. His arms dangled on either side and his head slumped with his chin buried in his chest. After a few more twitches he remained still.
It was sad to think that he had always thought that his startling appearance would make his life more interesting for him.
Alas… it had robbed him of it!