Ted's gaze narrowed into an almost squint, lids squeezing his pupils, brows furrowed deeply.  The two women walking by him were laughing, laughing so loud, it was unbearable.  One of them snorted and he felt the rise in urge to hit her.  They didn't turn to acknowledge him, pretending they hadn't checked him out as they walked by.  Rude. 

Sitting at the table, he observed the papers he had stacked neatly on the left, the notebook on the right, three pens, his cell phone and his coffee mug.  On the table lay the crumbled blue wrappers of sweetener and a stirring stick.  The coffee was black, but something in the sweetener seemed to give him an added edge, he could feel it, that just made the world a little more his.  He gazed around the front patio, and there was just an old woman with her dog, eating a muffin she clearly didn't need.  He guessed she must have been around 60 pounds overweight, he couldn't stand fat people.  Especially women, there should be laws about that.  It went against nature.  He wasn't biblical or anything, but he was pretty sure that there were even rules about that in the Bible.  

Ted scooped up his mug to go in for a refill, and to see if there were some more adequate female guests to check out.  He had been really disappointed in the coffee shop population lately.  Lots of older guys, recently put out of work or retired early, hanging out all day on their laptops and taking up space.  Sometimes he'd see them flirting with the young women there, it was really pathetic.  But it also blocked him from making contact, as it just takes a moment to scare a girl off.  He'd have to wait until at least 10, 15 minutes passed, before he could make a clean step in.  Today he hadn't figured out his opening line.  If there was an old fat guy with grey hair and a beard, he could make a crack about Santa being a pervert.  There wasn't anyone like that, maybe one guy, but he actually looked a bit more together than most and his hair was more dark grey and groomed, short beard.  Ted unconsciously reached up and stroked the sculpted triangle of chin beard he had been working on.  He had read that this unconsciously made women think of their own hair triangle when he talked to them, and planted the seed of sex with him in their mind.  

He got impatient waiting for the girl in front of him on line to shut up and finish her order already.  She was probably about 22, which would be an okay age, though he preferred women at least 6 or 7 years younger than him.  Otherwise they seemed to get too many ideas about their power, the kind of ideas that make a really good relationship impossible.  He couldn't see her face, but he noticed she had a little bit more of a belly than he could handle.  Not grotesque, like the hag outdoors, but still sloppy.  He'd have to figure out a way to get her to lose the flab.  If they were going to videotape stuff, he needed the visuals to be better.  Her hair was long, a plus, and kind of wavy.  Her clothes showed she could use some styling tips, but better from him than from the ladies' mags.  There was a huge difference between sexy and slutty, he thought.  Most girls were sluts these days.   

The girl took her mug over to the side bar and he handed his to the cashier for a refill, "Dark Roast, but only if fresh brewed.  I'll wait," he said, and handed her the two quarters he kept in supply for these moments.  

"Less than ten minutes ago," the barista replied, and took his money and mug without looking him in the eye.  Poor skills, I should consider mentioning that to the manager.  If you are going to have a woman at the counter serving men, she needs to smile and make eye contact.  Customer service has gone to shit, he chuckled, looking at the tip jar covered with the desperate handwritten pleas for change and tips.  It had a few bills in there, lots of coins, even a five.  What jackass would give that girl a five?  Must be really hard up for attention.  

Ted took his coffee to the side bar to get his sweetener, and saw the girl was still there, pouring cinnamon and sugar in, swirling with a stick and spilling a bit over the edges.  He could see sugar crystals on the counter, cinnamon powder framing her mug, and he hoped she'd have the decency to wipe it up.  She took three napkins, far too many.  He pushed up next to her.  "You don't want to be using sugar if you want to keep your belly flat" he said, reaching past to grab the blue sachets. "Sugar makes people fat, and it's really bad for you." 

He had read that women don't like it when a man says nice things to them like, oh, you are pretty, oh, I like your hair- especially right off the bat.  It makes the man look weak, and it kills the mystery.  They liked to be a little insulted, it pushed them off their princess chair and made them face you, and then he'd always win in that match.  She turned to him, "Excuse me?"

"I said, you don't want to use sugar if you are going to get rid of that belly fat, sugar is bad for you.  Here, try this instead."  He handed her some Nutrasweet.  Then he pulled up his shirt a little, and tapped his hand over his tight abs, to make a point.  "Keeps you thin and healthy." He knew the visual aid and the reveal of his hard stomach would draw her attention to his belly, his crotch, and then back up to his face to his goatee.  She'd be thinking of the two of them naked, belly to belly, her hands on his flat stomach.   He couldn't believe how easy this was, that dating book was so right.  Gotta give a hand to that guy, he sure knew how to read women. 

"Who the fuck asked you?" she replied.  He pulled back, in order to give her the big once over, so she would be clear how obvious it was that someone needed to say something, but she was already off with her coffee and back at the counter complaining to the barista and pointing her finger at him.  Both the women turned at the same time, making mean faces.  Some people didn't know how to take constructive advice.  What a dolt, she would have been too dumb for words.  

He returned outside to his table, his papers, his journals and plans.  There had been an ad attached to the eBook on dating, one about investing in gold.  The author had endorsed the company, stating he had already made ten thousand in returns without even trying.  Well, Ted thought, he had been spot on about the women, even predicting how they would act when confronted with their own shortcomings.   He must know what he's talking about when it comes to investment.  Look at him, he's got loads of money and a really hot bitch, Ted thought as he scanned the photo.  Now it's my turn.