For several minutes, David stood still on the sidewalk, watching as each of his breaths formed small clouds of fog in the cold air. He shivered and wrapped his coat around himself tightly. It had been a long time since he had last left his apartment to go anywhere other than his work. Still desperate for company, the diminutive man set off at a brisk trot towards the local Starbucks.
Despite the fresh air, the blue sky and the fiery autumn leaves of the few small trees lining the street, David felt an overwhelming sense of claustrophobia and panic that was increasing with every passing minute. Why were the streets so empty? Surely there must be someone out for a stroll or walking their dog. As he neared the Starbucks, his trot sped up to a jog, then a sprint. Somehow, he had the growing impression that when he pushed open the door to the coffee shop, it would be completely empty.
Breathless, he barged into the Starbucks and looked around. Behind the counter, a barista with multiple tattoos handed a coffee to young woman in a pantsuit. Near the back, college students hunched over their Macbooks and typed feverishly, while close to the door a group of teenage girls sipped frappuccinos and gossiped. No one paid any attention to him. Everything looked completely normal.
Suddenly, David felt quite ridiculous. Why would the Starbucks be empty? He came here every day before work for his morning espresso and it was always packed. However, he had to admit that it felt good to be around people again.
He shook his head and smiled inwardly at his silliness, then walked up to the counter. David looked up at the menu. Although he had never strayed from his usual espresso, today he felt like he could use something sweeter to calm himself down. Whenever David was stressed, he had a habit of binging on sugary foods until he felt better. His doctor had advised against it, but once in a while David slipped up, and the result was an unfortunate potbelly.
He turned to the barista and smiled. This was Amy, and since he had been ordering a coffee from her every day for the past three years, they were on a first name basis and she was the closest David had ever come to a friend.
"Hi Amy! I think I'll have a pumpkin spice latte today."
She arched a pierced brow and her smile wavered slightly. "Of course, would you like some whipped cream with that?"
"Sure, why not! Might as well pile on those calories, am I right?" he patted his belly and winked at her. The girl giggled. "That'll be 4.95, Sir," She tapped the numbers into the cash register, then frowned, and said, "Excuse me but...do I know you?"
Startled, David blinked. "But...Amy...it's me, David. I come here every morning, remember?" The barista ran her fingers through her red-streaked hair, embarrassed. "I'm sorry Sir, I serve a lot of people every day, so I can't remember everyone's names," she said apologetically. "So that was a venti pumpkin spice latte with whipped cream?" Her words filled the awkward silence. He nodded and handed her a five dollar bill. Amy gave him his change and smiled sweetly. "Thanks, we hope to see you again!" she said. But Amy, he thought, you do. Every day.
He shuffled to the end of the counter and fiddled with the zipper on his coat while he waited for his drink. What was going on? They had known each other for years! How could she simply not recognize him? "One pumpkin spice latte?" called a barista. David picked up his drink a gazed forlornly into the cardboard cup. Was he really that forgettable? All his life he had been ignored and rejected. But Amy was different. She was always friendly and bubbly, and even when he was having a terrible day, he always left Starbucks with a smile that had nothing to do with his bitter coffee.
He peered over the edge of his cup at Amy. She was pointing out something on the menu to a college-aged guy. He said something that David couldn't make out, then both the customer and Amy laughed. She seemed to have forgotten about him altogether. Just like everyone else. But how?
David slurped his beverage. The whipped cream was watery, and the pumpkin flavor tasted bland and artificial. He took another sip of the tepid liquid. The drink was distasteful, but it was comforting to David. It tasted like his life.
