The Blue Room Cafe

Then I Met You

For some reason, although the café was modern and casual, it carried a classy vintage feel. The walls were a comforting shade of dark blue. Elaborate white molding and eclectic pieces of art made the color fade into the general background.

On the right was a dark brown marble counter where a few customers were ordering coffee. Across from the counter were tables and two sitting areas. Both of them had a dark brown leather couch, a coffee table, and a bookshelf made of dark wood like what would be in someone’s living room.

One of the sitting areas also doubled as a temporary stage. The first time I saw Kami, she was standing there playing a mellow coffee shop song on her guitar and singing into an old style microphone. You know which one I’m talking about, the one molded out of metal.

My arms were starting to ache from carrying the groceries. I managed to remove the folder of résumés from my mouth with two free fingers. I asked Laverne why we were here.

“I would like to give you a cup of coffee for your help,” she said. “And this is also where I live. Let’s take the groceries to the kitchen.”

We went to the kitchen, and one by one she took the grocery items out of my arms and put them away in the stainless steel fridge. While she was putting up the groceries, I watched the girl who worked behind the counter. It must have been the slow part of the day because she was working by herself. She poured ice and coffee into a blender and then went back to the register.

Laverne set the bananas on the counter.

“Thank you so much for your help. Now what kind of coffee could I get you?”

“A cappuccino would be fine.”

“Okay. One cappuccino. Find a seat wherever you like, and I’ll bring it to you.”

As I walked out of the kitchen and into the sitting area, there was a light applause. Kami had finished playing her song. Her long, dirty blond hair tumbled over her face as she took a polite bow.

I sat at a table that was in clear view of the makeshift stage. She stepped away from the microphone and held on tightly to her guitar as you came on stage and whispered into her ear.

At first, I didn’t pay much attention to you. You were wearing a dark blue apron over a white collared shirt—you looked like another employee. Then I remembered that you weren’t the girl I saw working behind the counter.

After giving you a nod, Kami moved back some more. You grabbed the microphone.

She played the guitar faster than before, and for some reason, the combination of chords sounded like they had a touch of sarcasm.

“Hello everyone!” you said like you were addressing an arena full of tens of thousands instead of a café not nearly full of ten.

“I’m Amelie, and I want to share this song I wrote with you. It’s called ‘Daydreamers.’”

What is this? Karaoke night? But then it wasn’t even close to 7 o’clock yet.

You tucked your shoulder length black hair behind one of your ears. Your golden eyes sparkled as you smiled at us. I think it’s interesting how you have a thing for unusual contact lenses. Then gripping the microphone even tighter, with your neon yellow and black nails clashing against the silver, you began to sing.

“They said the dream would come true.

They said the dream would come true.

THEY SAID THE DREAM WOULD COME TRUE.

Then I turned and looked at you.”

Maybe singing isn’t the right word for it. It was more like a conversation. You would whisper. You would explain. Then you would almost yell to make sure that we got the point. Then your voice would shyly shrink away, and you would turn your face from the audience like you didn’t mean to share quite so much information. Your lips were an unforgettable cherry red, fearlessly forming the words of the lyrics. Although you were wearing an employee uniform as you performed, it seemed more like a costume.

Is your work uniform a costume?

I have to say Amelie, you’re not a real singer. Still, you have so much energy and honesty when you're in front of everyone; I want to believe that you are. The moment I saw you singing, I wished I could live as truthfully as you. I wanted to slip into your cocoa brown skin and live as you for awhile. I wanted to escape the glass vault I was trapped in.

As I watched you sway on stage singing the same words over and over, Laverne set my cappuccino on the table.

“Oh, thank you Miss—?”

She told me to call her Laverne, and that’s when we officially introduced ourselves to each other. That was one of the most memorable and important introductions of my life. She took a seat at my table. I sipped from the porcelain mug.

“How is it?”

“It’s good. And so is the entertainment.”

Laverne smiled. She has a small gap between her two front teeth.

“That’s Amelie. She’s the girl on fire.”

She didn’t have to explain what she meant by that. You picked up the microphone by the stand and started walking around with it, almost knocking over a guitar amp.

After finishing the cappuccino, Laverne took my cup from me like a waitress.

“You don’t have to—”

“Oh, it’s nothing. By the way, do you know any girls who are looking for a job and a place to live?”

I was looking for a job, but I wasn’t thinking of the place to live part...

“Uh—I’m not sure.”

“Well if you know anyone, tell them that I have an opening. The only rule is that they need to be passionate about what they create. All the girls who help me run this place are writers, artists, performers, and so on. I give them a job and a place to stay so they can have freedom and exposure.

“See the artwork on the walls? All that art was made here, and interested customers can buy them. See that bookshelf over there? All those are books that have been written here, and customers can buy those too.

“I don’t take any commissions from the artists. All the money they make is theirs. I make money when they help me run the café. I pay them with a place to stay and a modest pension.

“I feel that all artists need to have at least one moment in life where they don’t need to worry about living—just creating. Please tell anyone who you think would be interested.”

The idea of living in a coffee shop is kind of strange.

“Uh—okay.”

Laverne patted my hand.

“Well Danielle, I wish we would’ve met under different circumstances, but it still was nice meeting you. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

“You too—”

I should give her my résumé! Give her a résumé! As usual, my shyness caused me to procrastinate for a second too long, and she was up from the table and gone. I wasn’t in the mood to look for jobs anymore.

They said that the dream would come true.

Then

I

Met

You.

Your voice trailed off. There was a light applause. You bowed with a huge smile on your face. I got up and left. Little did I know that not too much later, I would be back here applying for the job and the living.

Graduation came and left. I didn’t have a job. I didn’t try applying to any other jobs after the trip to Winter Park. My parents were upset. Even my older sister came down from the University of Florida to tell me how great college life is. I’m sure it’s great when you’re ready for it. It’s not like I’m never going to go. It’s just that I needed some time to figure out what I wanted. Yet, to my family the idea of taking time to figure out my life looked more like giving up on it. I couldn’t handle the dark atmosphere at home anymore.

So here I was with my suitcase on wheels, knocking on the door late at night. Laverne answered and let me in.

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