“What do you most desire?” asked the woman standing next to me in line while waiting to give my order to the barista.
“Excuse me?” I asked, while noticing her most prominent features. Her broad cheekbones, full eyelashes, respectful makeup, and a dress that’s much too nice to be found in a Starbucks. Her suede boots had a scuff on them which stood out like a sore thumb when comparing it to the rest of her outfit. She was a beautiful young woman. She was almost intimidating, but I knew she was no more than just some reporter looking for a story. Why do I believe this? I know the type, and the tone she spoke to me in was much too innocent to be normal. She was trying to get something out of me.
“Well you are congressman Simmons aren’t you?”
“Why yes I am, what would you like me to tell the paper sweetheart?”
“Only the answer to my question, but I just quit my job at the Washington Herald.”
“To do what?” I asked.
“To show them that I can be more than just a small columnist who follows trending pop culture.”
“And why are you asking me this question?”
“To get the answer. So everyone can know what you think,” She demanded politely, if one can do that. "So, what do you most desire?" she asked again.
“I most desire getting my latte. Now if you’ll excuse me.”
The look on her face was the same of a dog who had just been given up to a shelter, and she left the store quickly. She was weak. Beautiful, sure, but weak nonetheless. She doesn’t have what it takes to survive in this world. She is now leaving the coffee shop to join the herd of sheep waiting for her outside, which the wolves will soon devour, but they don’t know that yet. In this world you’re one of three things. You’re either the sheep, the wolf, or the sheepdog. What does the sheepdog do? The sheepdog moves the sheep along and protects them from the wolves, but they are only less weak than the sheep, for they are the ones who decided to protect the weak. I am the wolf. I most desire power. And how do the sheep come into play? The sheep feed me. They feed my hunger for power. Now the sheepdog, he and I have a mutual respect for one another, I stay out of his business as long as he stays out of mine. But when the sheepdog goes to sleep? Remember that wolves love the nightlife, and when the sheepdog is away, the sheep are up for grabs. I find this to be my personal philosophy in life. My father used to tell me about "The Boy Who Cried Wolf", and I grew to admire the wolf. The dominant animal, top dog, going after it prey at the best time possible. When the boy cried wolf, everyone grew scared of the wolf, but then when there was no wolf, everyone let their guard down. The boy had no help when he cried wolf a second time, and the wolf attacked the boy without resistance. This is why the boy should never challenge the wolf, because the wolf is strong, and the wolf always wins. The wolf is respected and therefore will not be challenged. I am the wolf.
A ringing began in my head as I began to regain focus. It was a tiny voice, getting closer with every second that passed. It was a shrill, whiny voice, which resembled a sheep crying out it’s last “baaa” before being devoured. The voice continued to stalk me, until suddenly I remembered I was getting coffee.
“Colossal Asshat?” the confused barista whined.
I could only assume this was me, as I left my cup unguarded for the reporter to write on. I might as well be getting devoured by a wolf, as young reporter wannabees tweet about this incident between a barista and a US Congressman.
“Never let your guard down,” I mumbled to the barista as he handed me my espresso.
The boy nodded with an immature smirk, and I strolled out the door sipping my hot coffee. “Ahh… perfect”.