It's Only A Latte

Yet again, the light went red before I could get through the intersection. Looking at my watch again, it was a sure thing that I was going to be at least fifteen minutes late to class. Now the question was, do I blow it off or be the awkward girl who comes in late? Taking into account that the class was less than twenty students and since the professor sometimes locked the doors, going in the back wasn't guaranteed, I decided to just forgo my first class and head to Starbuck's instead.

7am meant rush hour at this particular Starbuck's. Since I was missing class, I figured I could just read the next chapter while enjoying my latte.

Finding a parking space wasn't worth driving around the small parking lot. Instead, I parked in the grocery store's expansive lot and walked. The season was slowly changing from winter to spring and for once the temperatures were agreeable. I even saw a few young men wearing shorts. Not warm enough for me quite yet.

The line was almost out the door, but since I was no longer in a rush, I wasn't particularly annoyed. Yet. I simply pulled out my ipod and scrolled through the music for the next twenty minutes. Yes, twenty minutes.

I put in my order and waited at the end of the counter for my caramel latte.

The man in front of me was not so patient this morning. He was ranting and raving and it looked like the boy behind the counter was going to start crying right then and there. It was obvious this barista was new and that he must have messed up the angry man's order. Poor kid didn't look a day over sixteen and the man's stature was no doubt intimidating. If I didn't find his behavior appalling, I might have reacted in a similar manner.

This man seemed to be some sort of executive who thought he was God's gift to the world. He had a suit that was probably expensive, a bluetooth device in his ear, and a briefcase. I worked in retail for over a year in high school and I encountered his type frequently. Since I didn't work here, I figured I would take the opportunity to put him in his place, an action I had wanted to do numerous times during my employment. This could be fun and liberating.

I took a deep breath and tapped the rude man's shoulder.

"What do you want?" he asked, voice not any lower than it was while yelling at the poor kid.

"Excuse me sir," I started and then noticed his gaze. He had been looking down on the small barista and hadn't yet changed the height of his vision, putting his view at the height of my chest.

"Eyes up here please." I gestured to my face and began my own rant towards the man. I tried to keep an even timber, but my annoyance was obvious.

"Now look, you're obviously displeased, but yelling at this poor kid isn't going to make it better, now is it? We're not getting a time machine any time soon unless you've been hanging out with Michael J. Fox, but ranting about wanting to get this poor kid fired isn't going to fix anything either. Do you or have you ever worked in customer service? If so, your behavior right now is indicative of someone who is horrible at that said job. I'm tempted to get your name and write your supervisor. But you've caught me in a good mood. Now, if you will promptly apologize to this young man for probably making him shit his pants, maybe the rest of us could get our drinks? Please and thank you."

At the end of this monologue, the entire store erupted in applause. I took a small bow, smiled at the man, shooing him to turn around with a wave of my hand.

Flustered, the man did not apologize. Or say anything for that matter. He grabbed his brief case off the ground and rushed out the door. I couldn't help but laugh.

"Thank you," the new barista said, grateful to no longer be the center of negative attention.

"Not a problem. I don't see the point in getting so worked up over a drink. He needed an attitude adjustment." He laughed and handed me my latte. I took a sip. It was no different than any of the others I'd had, so it wasn't like he was incredibly awful at his job. The business man probably had a difficult order and or got off on making others feel small.

"Well, you got this right. You're doing fine kid." I put a dollar in the tip jar and walked to one of the big comfy looking chairs in the corner. Pulling out my textbook and starting my ipod again, I settled in to enjoy my latte and pretend like I wasn't missing class.

Half an hour later, after some of the initial rush, someone tapped my shoulder. It was another one of the employees.

"Thanks for what you did earlier. I'm the manager on this shift so I couldn't exactly yell at that man like you did." He sat down in the other chair, placing a plate with a cookie on the small table. I was trying to finish the paragraph so I could give him my undivided attention. While I wasn't in the mood to chat, I wasn't going to be rude.

"It kind of made my morning honestly. I dislike assholes." He laughed. It was a beautiful laugh. I closed the textbook and looked up. The signature hat was absent from his head and his dark, longer hair hung slightly over his the right side of his face. He shook his head to the right, a habit I assumed, to reveal deep blue eyes.

"This may seem forward, but would you want to go out for coffee sometime?" he asked. I almost cried I was laughing so hard at his suggestion.

"We're in a coffee shop, that you work at, and you want to get coffee?" I said in between giggles.

"Yep," he said smiling, amused at his own suggestion.

"I don't even know your name," I said, still laughing.

"It's Todd," he responded, sticking out his hand.

"Nice to meet you I'm-"

"Lauren." He pointed to my cup, my name in large letters on the side.

"How observant." I certainly liked what I was seeing of his personality. It was similar to mine in an compatible way. At least I knew we could have fun.

"So coffee?" he asked.

"Sure. When do you get off?" I still found the idea of a coffee date with a barista absolutely hilarious, but then again that was part of the allure.

"Three," he responded.

"Meet you here?" My class got over at 2:30, which would give me plenty of time to return to the cafe.

"Sounds good. Then we can go to another Starbuck's," he said, gesturing to his coworkers.

"But that's no fun," I teased. The other employees laughed, obviously listening to our conversation.

"They give me enough greif. But I've got to go back to work. So three?" I nodded, watching the sway of his hips as he walked back to the counter.

For some strange reason, my textbook couldn't hold my attention for the rest of my latte.