Over a Mocha

White Chocolate Mochas and Cookies

8 a.m. I open the door and  a wave of warmth flutters over my face. I close my umbrella and step inside. The strong smell of coffee beans and whipped cream tingles my nose. I walk behind the counter and put my apron on.  April, the owner of Grinder's, puts an arm on my shoulder.

"Right on time everyday." She smiles and gives my shoulder a squeeze and walks away. I've been working here for almost a year now and April still is as sweet as she was when she hired me. April has always been a quiet lady. After she graduated college with a degree in business management, she opened a coffee shop. Ever since, this place has blown up. On rainy days like these, sometimes the profits can be in the thousands. The tips are pretty great too. April was really lucky. She has been in business for seven years now and has had barely any struggles. She picked the perfect spot, the perfect name, and the perfect coffee grounds.

We sell many types of coffee here from Colombian to French, but the best sellers are the traditional mocha and lattes that are made with beans from the U.S. Even though it's only Eight o' clock in the morning, this place already has seven people sitting in bean bags, on couches, at tables, and at the bar reading, doing homework, or just enjoying their coffee alone. All the time there are couples coming  in and sitting at the window talking. Sometimes it's a first date, sometimes it's they met each other five minutes ago. Long time couples even come here. A few months ago, a guy proposed to his girlfriend with a latte I prepared with a foam picture of a ring and a heart. I stare out thw window at the passing cars and people on the sidewalk. A man walks in.

"Hello," he says. I turn from my stare at the street and smile.

"Hello, welcome to Grinder's. What would you like to order?"

"I'll have a Colombian, hot coffee."

"Any creamers?"

"No thanks."

"What size would you like?"

"Grande please."

"Can I get a name for the order?"

"David."

"Okay coming right up," I smile and start making his drink. He goes and sits down at the table near the pickup area. He gets out his laptop from a bag I didn't notice he was carrying and opens up stock reports. I scoop some Colombian beans into the grinder and press the button. When I first started working here, the grinder April had was really loud and there was only one. Rush hour was hectic and loud. Now the grinder is very quiet and we have three. I close my eyes and listen to the song playing. It's about a break up. The singer is calling her ex from "the other side" as she says and apologizes for all that she had done. The grinder beeps and I  open my eyes. I put the beans in our coffee maker and press the buttons for his order. "Black" "Hot" "Grande" "Single Cup" "Complete Order"

The coffee pours into the cup and steams. The steam comes towards my face and I let the smell surround me. Still, after a year, the smell of coffee makes me smile. I write David's name on the cup. I look over at him. He seems busy. Instead of making him get up, I bring the  cup over to him.

"Here's your coffee, Sir," I smile at him and set it down.

He looks up, "Thank you." As I start to walk away, he says, "Wait." I turn and he is standing behind me with a ten dollar bill. "Here, have this."

"A-are you sure? Ten dollars is a huge tip. Especially for a barista."

"I'm sure. I have been coming here since it opened and a couple months ago, I proposed to my fiance here with a latte you made. I realized that I had never tipped you that night and I was embarrassed to come back, afraid you would be angry with me. I finally  got the courage to come back and you smiled at me with a heart full of kindness. Because of you, I am marrying the person that I love the most next month and I feel you deserve this. Take it." He hands me the bill, puts his laptop away, grabs his coffee, and leaves me standing there with a ten dollar bill in my hands. I smile to myself and put the money in the tip jar.