Like a page out of Cabo

I sat in the corner beside a man who was sitting with his book and pint of beer. The book didn’t look that interesting, but what was, was him. Alone, delved into the plot or narrative set before him. He was not old for that matter. He was, quite likely, just a few years ahead of me. I didn’t see him glance at his phone once in the time we shared a general space and time.

In the meantime, I observe a beautiful picturesque family making their way to the patio. The mother, gorgeous, looking like she belongs in Cabo, while the father, sporting his SMITH optics, looking like he’s out of a page from Aspen. And their three children - glued to their iPads, distracted. Docile to their parents in impiety.

All the while I sit, sipping my riesling on a hot summer day at a brewery.