It’s packed at The Coffee House this mornin’. The guy next to me sits down doin’ his best not to disturb. I don’t know why this is such a concern for him since there are at least 4 other customers almost shoutin’ at each other and the barista.
And they might as well be screamin’ coz the java shop is small. A counter to purchase coffee, room enough to stand and almost bump into the folks aittin’ at the wi-fi bar.
I don’t mind the noise. It makes it easier to eavesdrop. The couple, a twenty somethin’ man and woman, orderin’ their lattes are laughin’ about plans the lady has to leave her boyfriend.
“It’s not happening,” the guy says. “It’s not going to happen.”
“Things like this take time,” she says. “Be patient.”
“It’s nothing to me. I can’t help it if you’re never going to get on with your life.”
After they pay for their drinks, they walk out the back door to the Coffee House Courtyard.
The next 2 customers are guys ordering large regular coffees.
One’s a braggart. He says to the barista, a freshman in college, still a girl, “Here’s a twenty. Keep the change. Plenty more where that came from.”
The other’s a bit more humble and obviously crushin’ on his server. He tries to say, “Hi,” but it sounds, at first, like a quiet giggle then yaps into a bark.
Another customer pulls open the front door, walks in, blue tooth in his ear, angry and red faced. “I don’t care what the fucker says,” he bellows. “He ain’t gotta prayer and he ain’t gettin’ shit from me.”
He stops talkin’, stands still, scans the shop, sees freshman barista’s smilin’ face and says, “Hi, honey. I’ll have a Red Neck Latte.”