I tried to act nonchalant, as if nothing had happened. This wasn’t the first time such a thing had occurred, but rarely did I make such public mistakes.
The café was mostly empty, though, so after ensuring no one was watching, I let the pen fall. In its natural direction, that is.
Down. I mean to say down.
I caught it as unnoticeably as possible and set it on the table. My control wasn’t the problem, but my absent mindedness was an increasing problem. It was the only thing I could attribute to the frequency of my slip-ups.
Then I recalled classic stories of people losing their ability to do normal activities because of stress. Perhaps that was the my problem, but if it was, I had no immediate recourse against it.
Deciding to go home, I gathered my things and made for the door. Then I turned and walked back to my table, where an unhappy waitress had arrived in my absence. I apologized and paid my bill, leaving a large tip before exiting the building.
It took me three blocks to realize I was being followed.