once.”
I point once again to my feet. “I still haven’t broken in these shoes.”
“Whine, whine, whine.”
“Cheese, cheese, cheese.”
He starts laughing.
It’s one thirty, and I just got back to Cool Beans from my lunch break. The day is still chilly; several college students are gathered around the crackling fireplace; and I’m reading the ad on the back of my Subway cup.
“Hey, did you know that Jared is more recognizable than Ronald McDonald?” I tell Jack, setting my stuff in the back and pulling on my cherry red apron.
He hands a customer an americano and starts working on a mocha. “Who’s Jared?”
“Maybe that statistic isn’t true,” I say.
One of our regulars, Jane, comes up to the counter. She’s only a few years older than me and comes in every week to do her Bible study for a class at her church.
“Hi, Jack. Hi, Maya,” she says, smiling.
“Hey, Jane.” Jack waves over the whir of the espresso machine.
“Hi.” I grin. “How’s it going?”
“Good.” She pulls her wallet out and looks at the menu. “I just love days like this. Can I get an English Breakfast tea?”
“Sure.” I ring up her total. “Anything new happening?”
“My brother’s moving back to town,” she says.
“No way! Mine is too!” I yelp. Jane jumps.
“She’s had four mochas and a macchiato,” Jack explains to Jane.
I shrug. “They were nonfat.”
Jane grins. “That doesn’t cancel out the caffeine, Maya.”
“But I feel better about myself.”
She laughs.
I attach the little strainer sack and scoop the heavily scented tea into it, pouring the hot water on top. “Why’s your brother coming back to town?” I ask, handing her the steaming mug.
“Mom finally talked him into it. He’s been looking for a job in San Diego and decided to move here to work as a marketing consultant with that computer place on Fir Street,” she says, adding honey to her tea. “Why’s your brother coming back?”
“He got a job, too. At the hospital. He’s a doctor.”
“Really? I’ll have to bring my brother by to meet you guys.”
“Yeah, I’d like to meet him. Have a good Bible study, Jane.”
“Thanks!” She goes to her usual seat by the window.
Jack comes over, wiping off his hands on the cleaning rag.
“You didn’t tell me Zach was moving back.” He smiles at me sympathetically. “Yet another reason for Maya the Grouch this morning?”
I hold up my hands apologetically. “I’m sorry. Mom called a few days ago. He was in town for an interview at the hospital. He just failed to mention that.”
“So he got the job?”
“Well, of course. He starts in a week and a half.” I’m still trying to decide if this is a good thing or a bad thing. On the one hand, he’s not a bad brother. On the other hand, he’s kind of an intimidating brother.
So maybe it’s good
and
bad.
“Well, that’s good, right?” Jack asks.
I hate it when he reads my mind.
“Not sure yet,” I answer, smiling at the next customer, a nice-looking guy probably in his thirties.
“Hi there,” he says. “I’m meeting my new girlfriend here. You haven’t seen a short, curly haired, cute brunette around, have you?” He leans on the counter, grinning flirtatiously at me.
Ew.
Jack rolls his eyes and goes in the back. The support he offers me in times like these is just devastating.
How do you answer a question like that? I’m not sure, so I stay quiet.
The man keeps on grinning. “How are you today?”
I’m doing my best to hold back the loud exclamation of
eiegh!
“Uh. Good. You?”
“I’m great. Can I get a small black coffee?”
I’d like to put a note on the counter to future men:
If you are trying to flirt with the barista, please buy more than the least expensive thing on the menu.
I hand the guy his coffee.
“Thanks, sugar,” he says. Then he just looks at me, eyebrows raised. I squirm, feeling under the microscope.
“Did you want something else?” I ask.
“Sugar?”
I point once again to my feet. “I still haven’t broken in these shoes.”
“Whine, whine, whine.”
“Cheese, cheese, cheese.”
He starts laughing.
It’s one thirty, and I just got back to Cool Beans from my lunch break. The day is still chilly; several college students are gathered around the crackling fireplace; and I’m reading the ad on the back of my Subway cup.
“Hey, did you know that Jared is more recognizable than Ronald McDonald?” I tell Jack, setting my stuff in the back and pulling on my cherry red apron.
He hands a customer an americano and starts working on a mocha. “Who’s Jared?”
“Maybe that statistic isn’t true,” I say.
One of our regulars, Jane, comes up to the counter. She’s only a few years older than me and comes in every week to do her Bible study for a class at her church.
“Hi, Jack. Hi, Maya,” she says, smiling.
“Hey, Jane.” Jack waves over the whir of the espresso machine.
“Hi.” I grin. “How’s it going?”
“Good.” She pulls her wallet out and looks at the menu. “I just love days like this. Can I get an English Breakfast tea?”
“Sure.” I ring up her total. “Anything new happening?”
“My brother’s moving back to town,” she says.
“No way! Mine is too!” I yelp. Jane jumps.
“She’s had four mochas and a macchiato,” Jack explains to Jane.
I shrug. “They were nonfat.”
Jane grins. “That doesn’t cancel out the caffeine, Maya.”
“But I feel better about myself.”
She laughs.
I attach the little strainer sack and scoop the heavily scented tea into it, pouring the hot water on top. “Why’s your brother coming back to town?” I ask, handing her the steaming mug.
“Mom finally talked him into it. He’s been looking for a job in San Diego and decided to move here to work as a marketing consultant with that computer place on Fir Street,” she says, adding honey to her tea. “Why’s your brother coming back?”
“He got a job, too. At the hospital. He’s a doctor.”
“Really? I’ll have to bring my brother by to meet you guys.”
“Yeah, I’d like to meet him. Have a good Bible study, Jane.”
“Thanks!” She goes to her usual seat by the window.
Jack comes over, wiping off his hands on the cleaning rag.
“You didn’t tell me Zach was moving back.” He smiles at me sympathetically. “Yet another reason for Maya the Grouch this morning?”
I hold up my hands apologetically. “I’m sorry. Mom called a few days ago. He was in town for an interview at the hospital. He just failed to mention that.”
“So he got the job?”
“Well, of course. He starts in a week and a half.” I’m still trying to decide if this is a good thing or a bad thing. On the one hand, he’s not a bad brother. On the other hand, he’s kind of an intimidating brother.
So maybe it’s good
and
bad.
“Well, that’s good, right?” Jack asks.
I hate it when he reads my mind.
“Not sure yet,” I answer, smiling at the next customer, a nice-looking guy probably in his thirties.
“Hi there,” he says. “I’m meeting my new girlfriend here. You haven’t seen a short, curly haired, cute brunette around, have you?” He leans on the counter, grinning flirtatiously at me.
Ew.
Jack rolls his eyes and goes in the back. The support he offers me in times like these is just devastating.
How do you answer a question like that? I’m not sure, so I stay quiet.
The man keeps on grinning. “How are you today?”
I’m doing my best to hold back the loud exclamation of
eiegh!
“Uh. Good. You?”
“I’m great. Can I get a small black coffee?”
I’d like to put a note on the counter to future men:
If you are trying to flirt with the barista, please buy more than the least expensive thing on the menu.
I hand the guy his coffee.
“Thanks, sugar,” he says. Then he just looks at me, eyebrows raised. I squirm, feeling under the microscope.
“Did you want something else?” I ask.
“Sugar?”
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