Leaning back in the black, iron chair under a sun bleached umbrella, nursing a paper cup of coffee, Jake Raynor imagined the composition of his body, which probably consisted mostly of pancakes and coffee, or at least whatever components went into pancakes and coffee. Why so much coffee? Raynor thought aloud to himself..
It wasn't that much money. Maybe 2 to 3 dollars on average after tipping. Then again, didn't he recall the price of an entire pound of ground coffee being around 12 dollars? So same price as six cups of coffee. But how much coffee could a pound make? Definitely more than six.
Raynor checked the time. Around three thirty. He tried gulping his remaining, lukewarm coffee but ended up throwing away a little bit. He stood there waiting for a moment trying to figure out what to do. He decided to go home and work on some homework.
At around five thirty he was walking back to Baker Ave after failing to do any homework. Jamieson had texted saying that he'd be at the Pinball Arcade that evening. Raynor figured he'd peak inside the arcade after stopping into the cafe for an hour of German conversation. That way he could feel like he did at least one productive thing that day.