August 24, 2010

I start work in 6 days. I cannot wait! It will get me out of the house…which God and everyone knows that is what I need the most right now. Today is an errands and writing day. I already bought what I can find uniform-wise and left the letter I need to mail at home somewhere on my floor. Well…looks like there is only one thing left. Café time.

I park in a spot just two spaces away from the door of Starbucks. Surprisingly enough, the only spots open are the handful right by the entrance. That’s nice. I like to be able to see my car. Not that anyone would break in. There is nothing but a few paintings I’m trying to sell and a large, metal, easel that no one can steal quietly. I try to slip in without the barista’s noticing, so that I’m not forced to buy a drink while I loiter. No avail. The place is empty. Darn. All well…an excuse to spend my money on coffee. Bad. I know.

“Tall Mocha Frappucino please?” I ask (inside I am reluctant. But outside, I’m average. A girl who looks about 16-blue jeans, t-shirt, bracelets, hair up, glasses…I’m actually 20. And have a bright future ahead of me despite what people might think. Whatever. Their loss.)

“Sure! One tall Mocha Frappuccino coming right up!” God. They are always so overly-happy. Too bad I’ll have to do that in 6 days. I’ll be working at Starbucks, too. Not this one. The one in the mall. You know, the one filled with pint-size, spineless, brainless, black-baggy-clothes-wearing pre-teens who have nothing better to do than skip school and go to the mall? Yes. I will be overly enthusiastic each and every day because that is how desperate I am for money. Not really ‘desperate’. This is actually a dream (for now) job for me. I would love to own my own coffee shop one day. The thing about Starbucks is…it is very commercial. For commercial though, it’s not half bad. I mean, you can loiter and be loud or quiet or weird or anything and they won’t kick you out or ask you too many questions. They do tend to gossip once you leave, but then again, who doesn’t anymore?

I move to the little counter on the left to wait for my drink. I look around at all of the cute over-priced coffee accessories. It’s like a girls clothing shop…but for coffee. Accessories, varieties, brand names, everything!

“Here’s your coffee sweetie!” I turn around to see the blonde barista smiling so big it looks like her face is about to shift downward from the weight of it.

“Yeah. Thanks.” I talk quietly. If they think I’m shy, they don’t try any small talk on me. Today, I’m not in the mood for small talk. I’m I the mood to be. Just be.

I take a seat at the larger of the tables in the small establishment. I need to fit all three of my notebooks, my laptop, and my oversized purse on top. I usually sit by the window when I’m out, but the way they build their chains, it’s always full of windows. Very close to pure, natural light on a day like this. It’s not incredibly bright, but the sun is just behind a thin blanket of clouds. So it’s a nice, soft light. I sit at a table by the one wall that does not have a window. I can see all but one of the seating areas, including outside. A few people come in while I sit there. Maybe four or five. By the topics of small-talk between the customers and the baristas, at least three of the incomers were regulars. I have a terrible memory. I’m worried I won’t be able to remember the regulars when I work here…That’s not acceptable here at Starbucks. Damn. I’ll play memory with my sister when I get home.

I don’t look too closely at anyone passing. They all seem to be in the in-out mood. Get in, get what you want, get out and go about your business. Then there came the girl in the summer-friendly dress. It’s modern and in small floral print. She’s not really a girl. She’s a woman. But I hate that word. So I say (and think) ‘girl’. She scanned the tables outside, realizing there was no one of interest (well, no one at all, actually) and continued inside. Again, she scanned the premises. No one of interest. Just me. She was tall, older. Maybe 37? Blond hair with obvious dye and re-dye in the past, but natural looking. It held age, but not gray. It was down, with sunglasses pushed up on her head. No bangs. She had laugh lines around her face. A lot of them. But mixed in were marks of hardships. Tears. Heartaches. She’d lived a good life. With mistakes. Natural. She was graceful for her age. Not like a dancer, but not like a klutz…then again, anyone seems graceful compared to me. No. She wasn’t a klutz at all. Her grace wasn’t antecedent. It was from the inside. An art form, perhaps. Subconscious, of course. She seemed to hold insecurities. But again. She’s not the only one.

The girl in the summer-friendly dress ordered a hot tea and sat by the window at the seat furthest from the door. She faced outward, toward the middle of the store. She brought a newspaper with her, and a pen. Obvious preparation for an early arrival. She sat and did the weekly puzzles, looking up nonchalantly every few minutes. Waiting for someone.

About 10 minutes after she had gotten comfortable with her newspaper escape, he came in. White collared shirt freshly pulled from the dryer. Not ironed, but not wrinkled. Dark denim shorts paired with white Nike shoes and either no-show socks or no socks at all. Dark, almost black hair. Dyed. Grays coming through silently here and there. Not a lot of gel. It had the potential to be a mess, since it wasn’t incredibly short, but it was neat and all fell into the right places. He had a receding hair line. Sunglasses hid his face just enough to not allow guessing of his age to the exact year. Perhaps early-mid forties? Maybe later thirties…His back turned to me. He knew exactly where he was going.

She hesitated, then stood. She’s had seen his picture before. Online dating? I don’t know. There was a familiarity between them, yet there was no doubt that this was their first face-face meeting. They shook hands and said hello. He quickly broke the awkward bubble and went to grab a drink.

She sat back down. Just as awkward as when she stood. Nervous. No doubt about it. He came back with a lemonade. Playing it safe. Coffee might be too risky. If she doesn’t like coffee, then she won’t kiss him later if he drinks it. He seemed confident on the outside. But subtle hints told me he was nervous, too.

“What would you like to do? Sit in here? Go outside? We cold drive around?” He asked, excitedly. I think he noticed how beautiful she was. Her laugh lines. Her grace. He didn’t goggle at her, but nerves rang in his voice now, as if it hit finally hit him-meeting a woman he’s been waiting to meet…finally. She stood up and they went to sit outside, where it was warmer. The sun wasn’t full force still, so it was nice out. Inside, I felt like a frozen dinner. I waited five minutes before going outside too. I couldn’t take the cold anymore and I wanted to see how it was going. Yeah, so I eavesdrop. I’m human. A very curious human.

They were talking about school and work experience. He graduated with a major in law I assume. They were talking about him working for a law firm. She graduated with a degree in Chemistry and worked for Lilly until she got very sick. By the sounds of it, she was just now trying to pull her life back together.

They started talking about amusement parks and hobbies. Random. Definitely a first date. And definitely from an online dating site.

Suddenly, my nose wrinkled and my chest tightened. Ugh. Some guy had sat down behind me and started smoking. I quickly grabbed my things and headed towards my car. I found my keys in my huge purse quicker than normal and unlocked my car. I was again glad that I had parked so close. I threw my stuff into my passenger seat and started the engine. Despite the fact the sun wasn’t blazing, my car was incredibly hot. No air-conditioning for the broke college kid. Automatic windows became my new best friend during the summer.

The last thing I hear as I drive away is her laughing loudly at one of his (corny, I’m sure) jokes.

I really hope they work out.