Coffee Shop

7:00 AM - I flip the sign on the door so it now reads "open". I turn the lights on, hang my jacket up in the back, and patiently wait for customers. The café, a modern, yet cozy area, has square, wooden tables with wooden and black-iron chairs on each side. Towards the back are the same tables across comfortable, leather booths, and against the large window pane and the right wall are counters with chairs and outlets if people wanted to work. In the back corner, if people were quick enough to notice, were two comfortable bean bags with a small, wooden circle table between the two - all on top of a large rug.

Act I -the opening scene. Not long after, the doorbell chimed, and two customers walked in from the chilly, autumn weather. The first customer, a tall man in a suit, and briefcase, glances at his watch, and back at the window at a waiting taxi. "Good morning, what can I get started for you?" I asked with a smile.

"Hot caramel macchiato," he said without making any eye contact. "And make it fast. My flight departs soon." I got to work, heating and frothing the milk while preparing the espresso - an easy task. I took a paper cup, and quickly drizzled caramel sauce around the inside. The espresso, now finished, was then poured into the cup, to which I added two more pumps of caramel. To finish it off, I swirled in the milk, topped it off with the lid, and gave it to the customer, who took it and rushed into their taxi, which took off almost immediately. How strange. A man, anxious to miss his flight, asks for a cup of coffee - another hindrance to already a busy schedule. Had he waited a couple of minutes, he could have been at his terminal, and possibly past baggage check-in.

The second customer, wasn't as hurried as the man before her - this time, she wore a denim jacket with a white T-shirt underneath.

"Hello, what can I get started for you?"

"I'd like an iced americano."

Act II - the rise of the orders. After she paid, I started her order. An americano - easy. All it needs is espresso and water to dilute it. As I compressed the powder, the doorbell chimed, and three more customers walked in, shivering from the cold. I poured water into another paper cup and took another customer's order while waiting for the espresso. While I didn't take a good look at the customers, I was able to get their orders, which happened to be the most common drinks - lattes, frappuccinos, cappuccinos, and the standard coffee and cream. How predictable - I could probably guess what a person will order, and when they will order it before they even tell me and pay. While one can argue that I love my job, I do despise the repetitiveness of it. I do wish for something to change, for something to happen.

As the day went on, some of the customers lingered for a while here - some were students typing on their computers or doing homework, some chatted away with their friends, and others were people on dates, lost in conversation. As is usual. Amidst the hum of small talk, some engaged in business deals, and some gossiped about their coworkers or their classmates. The most interesting conversation I've heard today was about how their boss was recently arrested for tax evasion - and how these people justified his misfortune with his overbearing attitude.

I take another order, my temper becoming a little more heated - much like the milk I'm heating up for a future macchiato that is bound to be ordered in the next two minutes. The work area started to reek of the earthy aroma of roasted coffee beans, and I started to sweat from the steaming milk. The line is not long, as I do well in predicting people's orders. My manager comes in, probably to praise me for keeping my cool and for my hard work. He walks up to me now as I boil water for a green tea.

Act III - praise of what I do. "Great work today," my manager said as he patted me on the back. "It's not every day that I hire a hard-working and cool-tempered person like you. I see a promotion for you around the corner, so keep it up!" I was right - more praise, however, I feel that my superior skills were undermined. My manager seemed to only focus on how predictable our customers' orders were - if not, how else was I able to correctly guess what their orders were? The customers nodded and even applauded in approval.