The Duke of Yelp
by Jerry Guarino
“Who is this person?”
Said Armen, the owner of the new bakery. Armen
looked around at his customers, sitting at café
tables, drinking tea or coffee and eating
desserts.
Meanwhile, John was on his computer in the second
floor apartment next door. He was playing a game
of hide and seek with Armen. “Guess it’s
time to make another appearance” said John.
Whenever the café was busy, John came in, bought
a cookie, hung out a while and checked in, but
since he also checked in from his apartment,
Armen had no idea who the Duke of Yelp was.
The modern coffee house was not a bohemian or
flower child flophouse. Instead of a bearded man
playing a guitar, there was jazz and spa music
coming out of ceiling speakers. Tie-dye cloth and
beanbag chairs gave way to expensive leather
furnishings expertly matched to create an
ambience of warmth and relaxation. At least a
dozen people were connected by phone, laptop or
iPad, tapping away while talking with companions;
heads bobbed and eyes darted up and down.
Although Armen was playing catch up, it seemed
all young people were skilled in tech use. He
just hoped none of them were hacking into his
computer to get credit card information.
“Great shortbread”, John said to the
cashier. “I’ll take four”. The
dark haired girl with Mediterranean looks
selected four unbroken cookies and put them in a
bag. “Will that be all?” she said
smiling. “And a coffee”, said John as
he selected a large take-out cup and lid, then
filled it from the self-service decanter. While
John was waiting for his change, he tapped on his
iPhone, checking in to the location. Armen heard
a ping from his computer and looked around the
room.
Armen walked over to his computer, set to the
Yelp page that showed his bakery/café. “This
one person keeps checking in with the name Pat27.
Hmmm. Could be a man or a woman. No picture”.
He needed another way to find him or her.
A 20-something Asian woman with faded jeans, soft,
brown boots and a pink cotton sweater walked in;
John’s head came to a stop as he saw her. He
watched as she bought a tea and raspberry scone,
sitting at the corner table and opening her
kindle to read. Normally not one to take chances,
John decided this was worth the risk. He walked
over to her table, paused, presented his bag and
said, “Have you tried the shortbread?”
The woman gestured for John to sit down, “No,
I would like that. I’m Amy”. “John”
and he sat down next to her. “I don’t
normally take desserts from strangers” she
said. “I don’t normally offer them,”
said John. “Are you from the Mission?”
John asked. “No, the Sunset. My friend is in
the wine bar next door”.
Armen walked around the seating area, glancing at
screens. People continued to come and go. He
decided to secretly take snapshots of them with
his phone.
John wondered if her friend was male or not; he
hoped she would offer this information. “Yes,
it looks like a fine place, a little upscale for
this neighborhood though”. Amy broke off a
nibble of shortbread and swallowed. “Well,
that’s my friend’s way of meeting rich
guys”. John smiled. “And you?” Amy
took a sip of her tea, and then put her hand on
the table closer to John. “Money comes and
goes. I don’t waste it, so I don’t need
much”. John was feeling comfortable now.
“Yeah, me too. But I guess you can tell by
the way I dress”. Amy looked John over.
“You look fine, do you mean the plaid,
flannel shirt?” John nodded. “Holdover
from winters in Berkeley. You?” “UCLA,
but I grew up here. You’re not from here,
are you?” How would she know that? John had
no discernible accent. “No, Boston. How did
you know?” he asked. “You speak more
slowly than natives.” After about an hour of
social dancing, John and Amy walked out, went up
to his apartment and made love.
Back in the bakery, Armen looked at the customer
pictures he had on his phone. It was 10:00pm,
closing time when a man in a mask came up to the
register, pointed a gun at Armen and demanded the
money. The gunman tapped something into his phone.
“Ping”. The dark haired girl took the
money out and handed it to the gunman. You could
almost make out a smile from the robber as he
turned to leave. “Remember the Duke”!
When the police arrived, Armen showed them John’s
picture. “This is the guy who’s been
casing my place”.
John escorted Amy back to the wine bar. “Who
is this?” said Jenny as she saw John with
Amy. John extended his hand. “John, this is
Jenny, a sorority sister visiting from L.A.”.
Jenny could tell where Amy had been. “So,
John what do you do”? Amy gave her a nudge.
“Hands off girl, I saw him first”. John
was flattered with the attention of these two
beautiful women. “Would you ladies like a
drink”? Amy and Jenny said in unison “champagne
please”. In his peripheral vision, John
caught them whispering to each other as he walked
to the bar. “Three champagne’s please,
but let’s keep it under $25.00”.
A waitress from the wine bar pointed out John to
a policeman, who was letting them know about the
robbery next door. “OK, I see him”. As
John and the women were toasting, John pulled out
his phone and checked in to the bakery one last
time, after they had closed. This would give
Armen a laugh when he got in next day; it was
just harmless fun. The policeman, seeing John
posting on his phone, confiscated it, looked at
the posting for the bakery. “Turn around Pat27,
we got you” and led him out the door in
handcuffs. “Or should I call you Duke?”
The
Duke of Yelp by Jerry Guarino
Copyright December, 2010 – All Rights
Reserved
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