Maggie had forgotten her purse. She left it in Jessie Blowers house when she was ushered into a car and taken back to her apartment after his party. She had a nice time. She could tell because her head hurt only a little. She waddled into the kitchen to get a glass of water and some ibuprofen. She was wrapped in her favorite blue blanket. She didn’t have anything else to do all day, and she really just wanted to lay in her bed and watch movies, but she had to sort out the business about her purse. Thankfully she still had her phone, so she called Jessie.

“Hey Maggie, how ya feelin?” he said.

“I feel alright, how about you, Jessie Blowers?” She liked calling him by his full name. He was what she called a “firsty-lasty.”

“Not too bad. I’m on my way to Waffle House now, you want anything?”

“No, thank you though. I actually called because I left my purse in your apartment. Are any of your roommates home?”

“Oh shit, I’m sorry. No, we are all going to Waffle House, but I can give you a call when we are on the way back? I’ll even come by and bring you your purse?”

“Oh, thank you! But you don’t have to bring it. I think the fresh air will do me some good.”

“Okay, I’ll let you know when we’re back and you can stop by.”

“Thanks again.”

“See ya later.” He hung up.

Yes, the fresh air would do her some good. She went into her room and changed her clothes and put on a pair of boots. She knew she should shower, but she didn’t have the will power. She grabbed her change jar and shoved it in the pocket of her jacket.

She knocked on her roommate’s door.

“Kasey,” she said.

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m going to the café, wanna come?”

“No, I look like shit.”

“I also look like shit.”

“I’m not going, Maggie.”

“Okay, suit yourself.” She walked out the door, down the stair and out into the open air. She pulled on her sunglasses and walked and was enjoying the walk to the café around the corner when someone shouted at her. She couldn’t really make out what he was saying. She kept her head down and kept walking, but it happened again. She could just barely make out, “I know you killed him.” Weird. She would have been more freaked if she wasn’t so close to the café, but she did wish she had her headphones.

When she walked in the café, it was mostly empty. She must have missed the first breakfast rush. She walked up the counter and went ahead and twisted the top off her change jar in her pocket.

“What can I get for you?” the cashier said. She was a chipper, short girl with two long braids.

“I’ll take a large coffee with two cream and three sugar and can I get an everything bagel with cream cheese.”

“Of course.” The girl was oddly bashful and wide eyed.

“How much?” Maggie asked.

“Oh, it’s on the house,” she looked in either direction, “Ms. Love.”

“Um, I insist,” Maggie said. Now she was really confused. The girl let her pay the six dollars and she grabbed her breakfast and sat down. She noticed the other customers looking at her and whispering. She pulled up her phone and looked in the camera.

“Holy shit,” she thought. “I look like Courtney Love.”

She’d been told she looked like her before, but now they were almost identical. She was offended by the comments of others and endeared by the young cashier. She sipped her coffee and picked chunks off her bagel while the other customers watched her.

“I hate to do this, but, we just love you, is there any way we could get a picture or an autograph?” a young woman approached her with a taller guy standing behind her.

“Why not both?” Her impression wasn’t very good, but her face sold it, she could tell.

“Really?”

“Yeah, why the hell not.”

She signed some napkins from the table and smiled at the camera.

“Thank you so much,” the woman said.

“Don’t mention it.” She smiled.

A new wave of customers came in, and she was worried some of them would be like those nasty people on the street, but she was pleasantly surprised. She drank refills of her coffee, signed napkins, took the occasional selfie and waved at people to shy to approach her. She wondered if this was how the real Courtney Love got treated. She hoped so, but she realized there were probably a lot more haters out there than she realized.

“It’s a damn shame,” she thought. She was happy to be receiving so much positive attention.

After another half hour her phone rang.

“Hello,” she said.

“Hey, I am back at my apartment. Why are you doing a weird voice?”     

“I’m not doing a weird voice.”

“Mhm, okay. Well, come by whenever. Also, what café are you at?”

“I’m at Truest Blend.”

“That’s what I was hoping, apparently Courtney Love was there earlier. Did you see her?”

“Really? Who told you that?” She smiled to herself.

“My friend Nate’s buddy said friend and girlfriend talked to her and got her autograph.”

“Jessie, I think Courtney Love has better things to do than go to local coffee shops.” The cashier looked over at her and Maggie gave her a wink. “So, can I come by?”

“Sure thing.”

Maggie put her bagel plate in a dish bin and walked to the counter.

“Any way I can get one last refill?”

“Of course.” The cashier walked back and filled up her paper cup.

Maggie thanked her, put the remainder of her change in the jar and turned to walk out, soon to leave Courtney Love behind her.

“Ms. Love?”

“Yes?” she pulled her sunglasses up over her head.

“For what its worth, I never thought you would hurt Kurt. Not even for a minute. And, you are a wonderful costumer,” the cashier said and smiled.

It might have been the hangover, but Maggie felt so touched by the cashier’s comment that her eyes welled up and a big purple tear of last night’s mascara fell down her cheek.

“You don’t know what that means to me,” Maggie said. She turned around and walked out letting the little bell sending her off onto the harsh sidewalks again.

Eliza Komisar is a freelance writer and childcare worker from Tennessee. She currently lives in New England where she spends most of her time reading and trying to figure out where to hang her portrait of Barbra Streisand.