A very long hat

The man standing next to me is wearing a grey-blue and black striped hat that flows off his head, all the way down the his back, legs, and touches the ground. I could live inside that hat. If that were my hat, I would stuff a 5-dollar bill (if I had one) into the end for me to forget about, then find again wonderingly several weeks later. What a delightful day that would be. But of course I hardly have plans that extend beyond the next 6 hours, so that would be uncharacteristically structured for me.

Three girls sit with their macbooks a few tables down. I'm completely taken by the pretty girl with wavy brown hair (who got up and tripped gracefully on a chair just as I was typing this). She keeps looking at me, and I at her, then we both pretend we were looking somewhere else. I think her name is Lucy, or Lola, or Lily, so something with L's; I think we've met before. She's talking about me with her friends. All three keep glancing back at me, and laughing. I'm not sure if this is a good or a bad thing.

She is excessively touching her hair. It is very pretty, I must admit, but she's the kind of girl who knows she's pretty, and can string a guy along just as easily as swishing her hair over her shoulder or taking a sip of cool water.