Cafe Friday #1
Trying my hand at a little fiction writing...
I had unconsciously observed him for an hour now, from behind the cafe counter. Something unspoken insisted I pay attention to him, and I was happy to oblige. The tables were full of business people from the nearby buildings and wanna-be hipsters who try to prove their relevance by asking a million questions about the roasting process and the beans we use. He stuck out, the way the color orange sticks out in a sea of royal blue.
Things started to die down after the lunch rush. The executives went back to their busy offices and the hipsters went off to buy micro greens, I suppose. The ones left behind were a quiet bunch; a lady and her elderly mom, a raven haired girl with a very large book, a guy with earbuds and two scones. The mystery man also remained; half sketching, half writing, gazing into the afternoon rain. Sadie, my fellow barista, began tidying up around the machines and the counters, so I went to take care of the tables and pick up trash. "You don't stop, do you?", I looked around cautiously to see who had spoke, though my heart already knew who asked. I connected with a pair of inquisitive brown eyes, perched behind gold rimmed glasses.
"How do you mean?" I replied, nervously wiping the mess out of the surrounding tables.
"Well, since I've been in here you've been moving non stop pretty much. Taking orders, organizing to-go cups, refilling stir sticks, brewing tea, answering questions; It's impressive. If I'm not mistaken, you also took an order in French?"
"It's true, we have some Togolese customers that come in and the occasional Quebecois visiting on business so it helps to know a little French."
"You know Spanish too?"
" Enough to get by. At the International Bakery where we get some of our treats from, when I go in for pick up the lady always tries to teach me a little bit. She's awesome like that."
"Huh. That's dope." he said, with a nod and smile.
"Thank you.", I replied, then I quickly took my leave as I felt my cheeks rising to my eyelids. I wanted to appear to be cool as he looked, and not like the goofy dork I am.
After he left, I went to clean off his table. His cup, saucer and lunch plate were all lined up perfectly, and there was a note rolled up and tucked inside the cup handle. It read:
I had unconsciously observed him for an hour now, from behind the cafe counter. Something unspoken insisted I pay attention to him, and I was happy to oblige. The tables were full of business people from the nearby buildings and wanna-be hipsters who try to prove their relevance by asking a million questions about the roasting process and the beans we use. He stuck out, the way the color orange sticks out in a sea of royal blue.
Things started to die down after the lunch rush. The executives went back to their busy offices and the hipsters went off to buy micro greens, I suppose. The ones left behind were a quiet bunch; a lady and her elderly mom, a raven haired girl with a very large book, a guy with earbuds and two scones. The mystery man also remained; half sketching, half writing, gazing into the afternoon rain. Sadie, my fellow barista, began tidying up around the machines and the counters, so I went to take care of the tables and pick up trash. "You don't stop, do you?", I looked around cautiously to see who had spoke, though my heart already knew who asked. I connected with a pair of inquisitive brown eyes, perched behind gold rimmed glasses.
"How do you mean?" I replied, nervously wiping the mess out of the surrounding tables.
"Well, since I've been in here you've been moving non stop pretty much. Taking orders, organizing to-go cups, refilling stir sticks, brewing tea, answering questions; It's impressive. If I'm not mistaken, you also took an order in French?"
"It's true, we have some Togolese customers that come in and the occasional Quebecois visiting on business so it helps to know a little French."
"You know Spanish too?"
" Enough to get by. At the International Bakery where we get some of our treats from, when I go in for pick up the lady always tries to teach me a little bit. She's awesome like that."
"Huh. That's dope." he said, with a nod and smile.
"Thank you.", I replied, then I quickly took my leave as I felt my cheeks rising to my eyelids. I wanted to appear to be cool as he looked, and not like the goofy dork I am.
After he left, I went to clean off his table. His cup, saucer and lunch plate were all lined up perfectly, and there was a note rolled up and tucked inside the cup handle. It read:
Had I more time
I would tell you how your freckles
Remind me of constellations
And how your silver hoops are crescent moons
Against an almond colored sky.
And how I, humbled astonomer
Are captured by the beauty of your stars...
I must have read and reread the note 20 times in the span of a minute, and not breathed once. I wondered if he would return.
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