No Thank You

Monday Morning Coffee

"Good Morning, Aya!" Ms. May greeted me sweetly with a huge grin and her thick southern accent as I was exiting the apartment complex for work. It was around 10:00 AM and the sun was shining softly on a particularly cold autumn day. Ms. May always stands in front of the entrance of the complex, so she could greet the tenants that would leave for work during the day. She did the same thing at night for the same reason. Despite the cold (and her age, cough cough) she was wearing a short pencil skirt, a tank top that read "Ready for Ya' Babe~", and a wool cardigan in a bright neon pink. Her bushy white hair was styled in a painfully tight bun, and her mouth was painted with a vibrant red lipstick. Ms. May's shoes were her usual pair of leopard-print boots that reached her knees. Sure, she did look a bit. . . flashy, but nevertheless, she had a heart of gold.

"Good Morning, Ms. May," I replied, lacking the same tone of enthusiasm. "I got your email." Ms. May's bright smile weakened, and the sparkle in her eyes dimmed. She slightly hung her head. I was about a foot taller than the older woman, so this slight action was enough to shield her entire face.

"I'm real sorry about it sweetheart, I truly am," she finally answered, "But times are rough, ya' know? Ah- look at me, holding you up. Get along now! Don't wanna be late, do ya'?" She shoved me out (she has a surprising amount of strength) and I stumbled onto the outside sidewalk.

I feel bad. I made Ms. May feel guilty . . . maybe I should bring her some coffee later.

The walk to Eien no Kioku isn't too far of a distance; probably eight minutes at the most. This part of the city wasn't densely inhabited, so there weren't the honks of nearby cars or the buzz of a crowd. The sidewalks were usually empty, and I enjoyed the peace and quiet.

It doesn't last for long.

I passed the residential area quickly and made my way into the more lively urban area. I was officially out of "my neck of the woods". The closer I get to the coffee shop, the more people walked with me on the road. Boutiques and restaurants multiplied and I was soon caught in the middle of a sea of people, hundreds of feet trying to get to get their destinations. The environment's atmosphere changed too; from dirty, cigarette-perfumed neighborhoods to a bright, lively city that never slept. People are always wearing fashionable clothes, their styles making them look like models. Many were on their phones (the latest models, of course) and were staring at them or taking photos and videos. I always managed to bump into some by accident, which was always followed by an annoyed "watch where you're going" and "I'm sorry."

I see this every day, so I can't help but compare myself to them, no matter how hard I tried not to. I definitely didn't have their style: I don't think an old, oversized gray sweatshirt, a pair of worn-out shoes from the 10th grade, and some faded jeans from Goodwill could even be called fashion. My unruly, split-ended, rough dark brown hair that bobbed at my shoulders couldn't hold a candle up to their freshly styled masterpieces. Agh, why do I have to be so insecure?!

I puffed out my cheeks and slapped the air out of them, trying to subdue these depressing thoughts. I earned myself some weirded-out glances from the surrounding crowd. As long as I had my confidence back, who needs their opinions.

Eien no Kioku finally made its way into view, and I couldn't be happier. It was a small, humble coffee shop, with a "comfy home" theme. It had large windows at the front of the store, decorated with cute window paintings as well as the day's specials. Haru was in charge of that, and you could tell by the derpy koalas and chubby cats he painted. Despite being the boss and owner of Eien no Kioku, he was extremely silly and childish and moronic and . . . utterly adorable.

My cracked watch read 10:15, just on time for work. Haru was just about to switch the sign which hung on the back of the glass door to "open." He spotted me with those sparkling sea-green eyes of his, that were like oceans just waiting to be explored. His mouth that only spoke gentle words curled into a beautiful smile, and he waved hands, calloused from years of hard labor before he opened this shop, and called out to me through the glass. Haru opened the door and met me outside. I had frozen in place subconsciously.