I am afraid to come into the door. I do like this door – a grate choice for a fancy coffee house, in fact.
Dark wood always promises something simple and elegant, but old dark wood promises something fascinating. My new beau has chosen this place for the first date. I must admit that his taste of coffee houses is not bad, but I’m still a bit dizzy about this evening, about him… I’m examining the beautiful front door of a coffee house, where I have had to be twenty minutes ago to be on time for a date. Instead I am glazing on this door as a fool for fifteen minutes listening to “all we do” by oh wonder in my head.
|Phone ringing|
- Yes, sorry for being so late. I’m opening the front door.
- It’s OK. I’ve just come.
Liar.
Oh, this place is even better than I’ve expected. It comforts me with its homelikeness. There are only four tables. A handsome guy in wooden eyeglasses is trying to have a conversation with a bit frightened elderly lady, presumably his grandmother, on a first table. The second table is taken by two young girls and a HANDSOME GUY in a nice vinous shirt. Dear universe, are you kidding me, because my beau is seating on the third table, dressed up in his best shirt of the ugliest color – violet – and this awful bow-tie that cries out loudly “Like me, please!”
- Hi, you are so beautiful tonight.
Of course, in this old worn out jeans and my father’s shirt I look amazingly attractive. Liar.
- Thanks. I like your bow.
2:1.
- Sit down, please. Here is the menu. They make an awesome cocoa with marshmallows.
- I would like a big cappuccino.
- Whatever you want. I’ll call the waitress.
How can someone order cocoa in coffee houses, especially in this one? Even the walls, pale brown walls that seem to have been milky few decades ago, whisper “Coffee with milk, please”. This shiny wooden floor, this old-old dark furniture that, I’m sure has been doused with espressos and lattes million times; it yells “Coffee!” And even this massive bar I am in love with, covered with plates with different cakes. It reminds me on gas station from “The Grapes of Wraths” by Stainbeck. I would like a piece of the coconut one, but I’m hesitating because of this “bow-tie prince” in front of me. I’m not sure that a beautiful princess of his dream eats. He might be confused.
The waitress is a bit plump lady with a funny pony-tail and disarming smile. She is crooning “Cold coffee” by Ed Sheeran. How sweet.
- How can I help you?
- I would like cocoa with marshmallows. And big cappuccino for pretty lady.
- Perfect choice. Our barista makes the best cappuccino on the earth.
Barista. Dear universe, do you hate me? He is the most HANDSOME barista on the earth!
“Cigarettes and chocolate milk, These are just a couple of my cravings…”Mr. Wainwright, I have to ask you to free my head.
- I would like to go out to smoke.
- I don’t smoke, but you are free to help yourself.
- Sorry, just few minutes.
Princess has just failed. There’s nothing to lose. I’ll come back and order a piece of that cake.
I open my favorite door and get my cigarette. I adore the taste and smell of good tobacco, and it seems that I’m not the only one who does. The two of three: a girl and that boy, from the second table certainly do too. I listen to them:
- Did you hear that: “An awful waitress… Bla-bla-bla… She does everything wrong… bla-bla-bla… She better stay from the right side. She takes the plate wrong. “
- She works as a waitress too. What have you expected?
- I’ve expected something else after two-years-brake of our friendship.
- You know Kate.
- Yes I do. And I’m sure that she has problems. She wouldn’t have called us unless she had.
- Maybe you’re right, darling.
- I’m done. Let’s come back and ask her straight.
“The rooms” by mmpsuf in my head. This guy has eyes as oceans. But he sinks in the eyes of this girl. Does she notice that.
I am done. And I force myself to enter the door.
The first table guy is so cute in his glasses. Oh, and his voice… Oh, universe, you are so cruel, and I’am so weak, so weak.
The elderly lady says:
- Oh, sweety, the play was great. I haven’t been in theater, I guess, since you grandfather’s death.
- We should do it more often.
- I don’t think so sweety. I’m getting tired too fast, and I’m sure you have more important things to
do.
- Or you just prefer staying at home alone, aren’t you, grandma?
- Maybe, I just don’t want to see the time passing so fast in this city.
I find myself staring at the “grandma”, she notices me too, and, I guess everyone does:
- I’m sorry; I just wanted to ask about your beautiful earrings. Where did you get them?
- Oh, darling, you won’t find such anywhere now. My husband presented them to me twenty years
ago.
- Oh, pity. But they look wonderful. You look wonderful.
- Thank you, sweety.
It’s definitely not the best conversation in my life, but at least they don’t think that I’m insane staring at elderly ladies without purpose.
- I thought you felt bad when you started staring at that lady.
- I was a bit in fact. I haven’t eaten anything today.
- I knew it! I risked ordering two pieces of cake. Oh, here they are in fact.
Impressive, violet shirt.
- I’ve been thinking exactly about… oh, it’s coconut! How did you guess?
- It’s just my favorite.
Suddenly, someone starts yelling. I haven’t even noticed the last fourth table taken by a family. It is the daughter yelling at her parents:
- How can’t you understand? It’s my life! I don’t want to be an economist. I want to be an artist!
- But, darling, what about earning money for living? We won’t supply you until our death. And we
won’t unless you will obey our suggestions.
- “Obey suggestions”? Don’t you think that it sounds a bit silly, daddy?!
- No more silly than the idea of beaning an artist!
Poor kid.
- It’s getting hot here. Are you done with a cake?
- Yes, I guess.
How have I eaten it so fast??
- Would you mind joining me for a little walk.
- With a great pleasure.
- Bill, please.
I feel a bit lost. Violet-shirted take my hand and we walk out the coffee house. The cold breeze puts me back to reality.
- I’ll take this silly bow off. I just tried to make an intelligent impression. Did it work out?
- No, actually. You look much more intelligent without it. It’s true, in fact.
- Thanks. I’m sorry for this noise in the coffee house. It’s usually a very silent place. I like it because it reminds me on gas station from “The Grapes of Wraths” by Stainbeck. It’s my favorite book.
- Mine too.
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