Legally Blonde
Taking a deep breath in, and a giant sip of the hazelnut latte in front me, I sighs in happiness as the foamy goodness of the coffee hits my lips. While some people have a vice on chocolate, I love coffee. I’m not the type who needs coffee to wake up and focus, I just need it for my happiness. It is my one and only love. Coffee won’t forget your birthday, won’t get annoyed with you, and it definitely doesn’t yell.
My hands wrap tighter around the grande mug, feeling the warmth radiating from inside it. Gently placing it down, and readjusting my scarf and beanie, I glance outside. The snow falls as hard as ever, the ground covered in a blanket of white.
I glance back down at the coffee mug. The pretty latte leaf was still visible in the foam above the rich, luscious coffee. It was sweet as it touched my tongue, gliding down my throat. Instead of having just the bitterness of coffee, the hazelnut offset it to a creamy, rich treat. Perfect for a day like today.
Looking at the snow fall harder outside, I watch as things out the window are slowly covered. Cars disappear and parking meters slowly became part of the white blanket that was covering New York City. The only thing that disturbed the perfect white blanket were footprints as people rush to take shelter from the cold, windy snowstorm.
Shivering, I picked up my patchwork shoulder bag and latte and wander towards the fireplace at the back of the coffee shop. Right next to the fire was an armchair. It practically whispers to me, inviting me to come and snuggle into the warmth and comfort it offers.
The armchair is majestic. I can just imagine it belonging in an aristocrats lounge room. It was leather, red, high back, plush. I sunk into it, sighing at the comfort it gave to me. It had high armrests, and the top of the chair was so high it covered my head. The sturdy wooden legs held strong.
I like to think of people as chairs. Metaphorical people. There were the bar stools, aeroplane seats, lounges, aristocrat chairs, hammocks and the good old milk crate. Each of them have different personalities. Instead of star signs, I think we need to have chair signs. I love a good analogy.
My name is Leah. I’m about 5’8”, so fairly tall really. I have long blonde hair, which at the moment is twisted into a neat French braid. I work mainly in a law office, which is rather ironic, as people who don’t know me often see me as the dumb blonde model. Well, in truth, I do a bit of modeling on the side, but I would like to think that my intelligence and wits are far superior to many of the blockhead men who work with me.
Men and their stereotypes. 99% of them seem to think that because I have long blonde hair and model for a bit of cash on the side that I can’t go to court and argue a case. I’d love to prove them wrong, however the misogynistic workplace seems to find any excuse to keep me at the office, taking calls, running errands.
My boss seems to have forgotten the reason he hired me – I was the dux of Harvard Law School 2008. If you were the dux you won a job at the prestigious law firm, so really, it wasn’t his choice to hire me. But he could use my legal skills every now and again, rather than my coffee making and photocopying skills. And four years on, I’m still making his coffee.
Anyway, back to the chairs. I like to think of myself as the lounge. A lounge is dependable, comforting, always there. It never moves and takes whatever is thrown on it in its stride. I know for a fact that my couch at home is covered in copious law books, modeling clothes, food…. And my dog. The dog loves the couch, and spends a good deal of time curled on there. However the couch doesn’t care, it just takes it.
I’d like to think that the people I know well see me with the qualities the couch has. I know for a fact that Mum is a couch. Tell her anything she won’t flinch, she’ll stand as solid as a rock and take it.
