Breakfast and Coffee

January 30, 2011 11:32 pm Sir Haxington Stories

The pre-work morning routine consists of a bowl of cereal and Earl Grey tea. But today was different. No, today he decided he needed some variation regarding the future contents of his stomach.

Like most Starbucks’ on the face of the planet, this one was having a busy weekend. The atmosphere was lively and crowded. However, the people and seemed a little different than usual.

Two older men on cellphones said nothing to one another while an aging woman dabbed at at her iPad. Older women still were having their weekend coffee and chat. Every fifth person was a small child. Parents buzzed about or sat in plush chairs, relaxing. Teenagers without a care in the world, the teenagers that take the outdoor seating, out of sight and out of mind of the adults, were absent completely.

It’s the same exact place he goes to on most days to take a break during work, but today was vibe is alien.

He moves to wait in line. There’s a bit of awkward confusion as an older gentleman has split the line in two. A much younger fellow at the tail of one of the line ends eyes him nervously. Who will he get behind? Him or the old man? Where will the line continue?

He falls in behind the younger man who soon lets the aging patron proceed first. Order is restored to the line. Single file as the universe intended. A to B is complete once more.

Eventually it’ll be his turn. He’s going to get his usual. He knows what he wants to eat. He’ll consume it quickly and without a second thought. No time for pleasure in food here, this day is all about work. His mind begins wandering. Preparing mentally for the long and arduous road ahead. Day, weeks, months, even years go by as trillions of his neurons fire off over the course of seconds, projecting the potential future outcomes of his decisions and actions.

He steps up to the register and stares at the cashier. The girl behind the counter is different than the one he’s used to. She’s taller. A little more shy. Maybe she’s new.

“What’ll it be?”

She sounds a little nervous. He quickly orders his drink and flips his wallet out from his pocket. Another flick of the wrist and his card is pressed between his thumb and index finger, prepped and ready to be swiped. Electrons are soon to be manipulated and sent through copper wires. A number on a remote server will go down, while a number on another server will go up in equal amount. A serious of motions and events he’s initiated countless times play out as naturally as the wind blowing outside.

He awaits her response. She’s taking longer than usual while punching in the order. Her scrunched up face and slight head tilt indicates she’s made an error and is giving it a second try. Patience is a virtue.

“And that’ll be…”

Before the air leaves her throat his hand snaps forward. His fingers lose friction and the card comes flying out of his hand. The plastic rectangle skitters across the counter and makes the girl at the register jump back in shock.

She laughs. Hard.

Embarrassed, he stares at the card as it teeters on going over the edge of the counter, but never makes the full commitment to gravity.

“I… well… haha, sorry about that!”

He means it, of course. The experience is rare.

But her laughter is infectious. Powerful. He starts up laughing right along with her. He can’t help it.

“Haha! No, it’s just that…”

He stops chuckling to listen.

“No I do that all the time and I thought I was the only person that did that!”

Of course, this is the first time he’s accidentally thrown his card at anyone in his life. He’s probably ten years older than her and he’s never had this experience. Saying this out loud would make her feel bad though, so he doesn’t.

But maybe she’s just being nice? Maybe she’s trying to make him feel better? Maybe this event never actually happens to her and she made the whole thing up to ease his embarrassment?

Or maybe it does happen to her all the time.

“Ha, well. It happens sometimes I guess. That was pretty awesome though.”

They lock eyes for a moment as they smile at one another. There’s an awkward pause.

“You don’t want your receipt do you?”

She already knows the answer but has to ask anyway.

“Ha, nope.”

They look at each other one more time, smiling.

He breaks away to the counter to pick up his food and drink. He begins thinking about work once more.

They never see each other again. Two pebbles bumping into one another as they are carried downstream.