Status: ever so slowly
The Café
one
February 22, 2010
The light shone through the colorful window in the front of the café illuminating the dull room. Not just the bland walls but also the dull personalities of a few of the patrons. Most were on their way to work and had stopped for a cheap morning caffeine jolt and to read the newsprint. Others had just stopped by to use the free WiFi.
Katie had started her shift at five in the morning, taking care to grind all of the coffee beans to what she thought was close to perfection. That was one of the times of her job that she enjoyed most. The quiet before all of the customers arrived. She mentally planned her day as close as she could. She knew that there would be a few spills and a few things that she could not control, but for the most part, Monday would be the same as most do the other days, nothing surprising, just the way she liked it.
Once Katie flipped the sign from closed to open, people began slowly drizzle in through the old wooden door causing the jingle bells to twinkle and chime. They would quietly mumble their orders: black coffee, Caramel Macchiato, iced cappuccino and many more. The reason why Katie enjoyed her job so ,much was because she loved coffee. She also liked to be around people too. She found solace when talking to the elderly customers, a few of which were regulars and treated her as though she was actually their granddaughter.
Katie’s shift ended at two in the afternoon, however she did not leave until three. Working at the coffee shop was not really like working, it was more like her second home. However she had things to do at her apartment, feed the cat, wash the dishes and the dirty laundry.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
John opened the old wooden door, his hand rubbing against the wood that had been exposed to many years of weather, the paint was almost all peeled off, leaving only a faint stain of red. In the café, Ryan Adams softly played through the speakers, creating a welcoming vibe that only Arizona could create. It was late afternoon, and the same middle-aged woman, Lynn was manning the counter as every time he had come in to the establishment. They greeted each other as old friends and without asking, Lynn made John's regular coffee. Black with a side of cream, no sugar.
"You must be the only person that works here. I don't think I have ever seen anyone else here ever." John said looking up from his red spiral notebook.
"No," Lynn laughed, her eyes squinting together making the crow's feet in the corners of them all the more evident. "A girl works here in the morning. She opens and I close. If you keep coming at this time of day, you won't ever meet her though. Well, actually, if you come back around seven tonight, she will be here. Nice girl she is. Or just come in earlier, I'm sure you are tired of me, I would be."
"I could never get tired of you, Lynn. You know how I like my coffee and after work, I need my coffee made by you so that way I can continue my work," he said gesturing towards the ratty notebook.
Lynn laughed again, "I hate to tell you this sweetheart, but your coffee really isn't that hard of an order, in fact, it is one of the easiest i have to fill all day." She continued onto the next person. After making her rounds in the coffee house, Lynn noticed that John was gone and in his place was a generous tip and a folded up piece of paper. "I will see you at 7:00 and I think I will change my order for then too, maybe get a pastry and a coffee, I like to keep things simple. - John" She smiled when she saw the note, knowing that he and Katie would make wonderful friends. Lynn hurried about the rest of her shift excited for the night to finally come.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
John reentered the building a few minutes past seven. A girl with wavy blonde hair sat at the small stage area playing the harmonica and guitar. Instantly, John recognized the song as 'Come Pick Me Up' by Ryan Adams. Aware of the children in the room, the girl did not sing the explicit words. She announced that the next song was going to be her last for the night. She began to sing 'Polly' by Nirvana. It was quite different from the original, as her voice did not have the same growl that Kurt Cobain's did, making it more of a innocent song than the lyrics implied it to be.
The girl smiled and bowed after she if wished singing and quietly went to the back room of the café. The entire time, Lynn kept glancing over at John as he tapped his long fingers to the music and fascinatingly watched the girl sing. He was enamored with her, not in the sense that he was in love, but that he thought that she would be a wonderful person go get to know. However, he knew that probably every male in the building thought the same thing because she was in fact beautiful. The way her blonde hair fell in loose waves around her face as she looked down at the neck of the guitar and the way that when she sang, she smiled her eyes lighting up, glistening almost as if she was going to cry, but didn't. As she watched John, Lynn realized that he was not looking at the girl with lust like most of the men in the building did;he watched her with interest and intrigue.
As she refilled John's coffee, she whispered, "That's her." John nodded and waited for the girl to come back to the front of the building, but she never did. Lynn saw the disappointment on his face and said, "Come back on Thursday, she is here longer than and she actually talks to people then."
He thanked her then again left a generous tip for Lynn and also in the tip jar set up by the stage area. He left the building the old door loudly closing and the bells jingling. He never drove to the café, he enjoyed the walk, the solitude of just him and his thoughts. He walked the five blocks to his house and the entire time he could only think of the girl. He was unsure of her name as Lynn had never said her name and the girl did not we are a nametag, why would she though, as she was not working. He wondered why a girl like her worked at a place like that. Not that the café was a bad place, but it was not the type of place one would set to a goal to work at.
The café did not have a proper name, it was just the café. It was not in the telephone book and it did not have a website. There were no televisions in the building, and the cash registers were antiques. The only thing that kept the cafe up to date was the WiFi and they had only gotten that to be competitive with the other more modern coffee houses in town.
Everything that they made, from the coffee to the pastries, were the original recipes from when the original owner, Mr. Ballotti had opened it sixty years prior. John had been coming to the café for many years, first with his parents when he was a young boy, the with his friends as he got older he borough a few girlfriends in, but not many, only the ones that he really like, eventually he stopped bringing anyone with him and just came alone. No matter what time in his life it was when he came to the café, Lynn was there. It had been about twenty years that John had went to the café and for those twenty years, Lynn had worked there.
It was Tuesday around two in the afternoon when Lynn arrived to work to relieve Katie.
“You did great last night, someday you are going to get out of here and forget about all of us little people, Katie,” Lynn said while Katie was getting her coat.
“Lynn, I could forget about everyone here, but you. You have been like my mother and my best friend ever since I moved back here. You have helped me through so much. Thank you," Katie said giving the older woman a hug.
"Well, you're welcome, darling. Now you had better get home and feed that cat of yours. Oh and I'm not going to be in tomorrow, and since nobody comes in Wednesday mornings, do you just want to open at the beginning of my shift?" Lynn asked hoping that that would work. Even though the mornings were very uneventful, the afternoons on Wednesdays were one of their busiest times.
"Sure, is there anything special I should remember?"
Lynn thought for a moment then spoke, "Yes, one customer comes in every day around four every afternoon, he brings in an old red notebook and sits at the bar. He is a regular and has been for the past twenty years. He will have one cup of coffee with cream on the side and no sugar. But other than that, there are no other special orders. There are, but they will tell you their orders, they tell me everyday. They will all enjoy seeing a new face."
The light shone through the colorful window in the front of the café illuminating the dull room. Not just the bland walls but also the dull personalities of a few of the patrons. Most were on their way to work and had stopped for a cheap morning caffeine jolt and to read the newsprint. Others had just stopped by to use the free WiFi.
Katie had started her shift at five in the morning, taking care to grind all of the coffee beans to what she thought was close to perfection. That was one of the times of her job that she enjoyed most. The quiet before all of the customers arrived. She mentally planned her day as close as she could. She knew that there would be a few spills and a few things that she could not control, but for the most part, Monday would be the same as most do the other days, nothing surprising, just the way she liked it.
Once Katie flipped the sign from closed to open, people began slowly drizzle in through the old wooden door causing the jingle bells to twinkle and chime. They would quietly mumble their orders: black coffee, Caramel Macchiato, iced cappuccino and many more. The reason why Katie enjoyed her job so ,much was because she loved coffee. She also liked to be around people too. She found solace when talking to the elderly customers, a few of which were regulars and treated her as though she was actually their granddaughter.
Katie’s shift ended at two in the afternoon, however she did not leave until three. Working at the coffee shop was not really like working, it was more like her second home. However she had things to do at her apartment, feed the cat, wash the dishes and the dirty laundry.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
John opened the old wooden door, his hand rubbing against the wood that had been exposed to many years of weather, the paint was almost all peeled off, leaving only a faint stain of red. In the café, Ryan Adams softly played through the speakers, creating a welcoming vibe that only Arizona could create. It was late afternoon, and the same middle-aged woman, Lynn was manning the counter as every time he had come in to the establishment. They greeted each other as old friends and without asking, Lynn made John's regular coffee. Black with a side of cream, no sugar.
"You must be the only person that works here. I don't think I have ever seen anyone else here ever." John said looking up from his red spiral notebook.
"No," Lynn laughed, her eyes squinting together making the crow's feet in the corners of them all the more evident. "A girl works here in the morning. She opens and I close. If you keep coming at this time of day, you won't ever meet her though. Well, actually, if you come back around seven tonight, she will be here. Nice girl she is. Or just come in earlier, I'm sure you are tired of me, I would be."
"I could never get tired of you, Lynn. You know how I like my coffee and after work, I need my coffee made by you so that way I can continue my work," he said gesturing towards the ratty notebook.
Lynn laughed again, "I hate to tell you this sweetheart, but your coffee really isn't that hard of an order, in fact, it is one of the easiest i have to fill all day." She continued onto the next person. After making her rounds in the coffee house, Lynn noticed that John was gone and in his place was a generous tip and a folded up piece of paper. "I will see you at 7:00 and I think I will change my order for then too, maybe get a pastry and a coffee, I like to keep things simple. - John" She smiled when she saw the note, knowing that he and Katie would make wonderful friends. Lynn hurried about the rest of her shift excited for the night to finally come.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
John reentered the building a few minutes past seven. A girl with wavy blonde hair sat at the small stage area playing the harmonica and guitar. Instantly, John recognized the song as 'Come Pick Me Up' by Ryan Adams. Aware of the children in the room, the girl did not sing the explicit words. She announced that the next song was going to be her last for the night. She began to sing 'Polly' by Nirvana. It was quite different from the original, as her voice did not have the same growl that Kurt Cobain's did, making it more of a innocent song than the lyrics implied it to be.
The girl smiled and bowed after she if wished singing and quietly went to the back room of the café. The entire time, Lynn kept glancing over at John as he tapped his long fingers to the music and fascinatingly watched the girl sing. He was enamored with her, not in the sense that he was in love, but that he thought that she would be a wonderful person go get to know. However, he knew that probably every male in the building thought the same thing because she was in fact beautiful. The way her blonde hair fell in loose waves around her face as she looked down at the neck of the guitar and the way that when she sang, she smiled her eyes lighting up, glistening almost as if she was going to cry, but didn't. As she watched John, Lynn realized that he was not looking at the girl with lust like most of the men in the building did;he watched her with interest and intrigue.
As she refilled John's coffee, she whispered, "That's her." John nodded and waited for the girl to come back to the front of the building, but she never did. Lynn saw the disappointment on his face and said, "Come back on Thursday, she is here longer than and she actually talks to people then."
He thanked her then again left a generous tip for Lynn and also in the tip jar set up by the stage area. He left the building the old door loudly closing and the bells jingling. He never drove to the café, he enjoyed the walk, the solitude of just him and his thoughts. He walked the five blocks to his house and the entire time he could only think of the girl. He was unsure of her name as Lynn had never said her name and the girl did not we are a nametag, why would she though, as she was not working. He wondered why a girl like her worked at a place like that. Not that the café was a bad place, but it was not the type of place one would set to a goal to work at.
The café did not have a proper name, it was just the café. It was not in the telephone book and it did not have a website. There were no televisions in the building, and the cash registers were antiques. The only thing that kept the cafe up to date was the WiFi and they had only gotten that to be competitive with the other more modern coffee houses in town.
Everything that they made, from the coffee to the pastries, were the original recipes from when the original owner, Mr. Ballotti had opened it sixty years prior. John had been coming to the café for many years, first with his parents when he was a young boy, the with his friends as he got older he borough a few girlfriends in, but not many, only the ones that he really like, eventually he stopped bringing anyone with him and just came alone. No matter what time in his life it was when he came to the café, Lynn was there. It had been about twenty years that John had went to the café and for those twenty years, Lynn had worked there.
It was Tuesday around two in the afternoon when Lynn arrived to work to relieve Katie.
“You did great last night, someday you are going to get out of here and forget about all of us little people, Katie,” Lynn said while Katie was getting her coat.
“Lynn, I could forget about everyone here, but you. You have been like my mother and my best friend ever since I moved back here. You have helped me through so much. Thank you," Katie said giving the older woman a hug.
"Well, you're welcome, darling. Now you had better get home and feed that cat of yours. Oh and I'm not going to be in tomorrow, and since nobody comes in Wednesday mornings, do you just want to open at the beginning of my shift?" Lynn asked hoping that that would work. Even though the mornings were very uneventful, the afternoons on Wednesdays were one of their busiest times.
"Sure, is there anything special I should remember?"
Lynn thought for a moment then spoke, "Yes, one customer comes in every day around four every afternoon, he brings in an old red notebook and sits at the bar. He is a regular and has been for the past twenty years. He will have one cup of coffee with cream on the side and no sugar. But other than that, there are no other special orders. There are, but they will tell you their orders, they tell me everyday. They will all enjoy seeing a new face."