The Coffee Shop

Sunshine

           The rain poured down in endless sheets.

           “One tall mocha cappuccino,” a middle-aged woman ordered.  I typed her order in with ease and began to assemble her drink.

           “One tall mocha cappuccino,” I repeated, setting her drink on the counter that separated me from society.  She walked over, heels clacking, and took her drink.  She left without a smile, leaving the shop empty.  Sighing, I leaned on my hand.  Locks of curly red hair fell into my eyes, and impatiently I swiped them back  trying, for the millionth time today, to smooth my mess of a hair do.  Giving up, I turned to the window to glimpse at the world outside.  Groups of people clung together underneath the canopies the shops offered, as if the rain would burn their skin.

           The bell rang over the door as three girls scampered into the shop giggling.  Taking a deep breath, I started to mentally prepare myself for their complicated orders.

           “SUNSHINE?!” The taller girl shrieked.  Oh please no.  “Abigail… from high school…?”  I plastered on a fake smile.

           “Of course I remember,” I said.  

    “Sunshine?”  One of the girls to the side asked.  “Were your parents hippies of something?”  

    “Actually, yes they were.  They wanted to give me a name that--”

           “Oh, whatever!” Abigail cut me off, impatiently waving her hand.  “What are you doing here?!”  She has a very loud and high voice.  The girls next to her held vacant expressions as they played around with their phones, taking no notice of me.

           “Well, I work here,” I said as I motioned to my uniform.  “This is my shop.”

           “Wow, I totally thought you were going to be, I don’t know, a musician or something!” Why does she talk like every sentence is exciting?

           “It didn’t work out,” I shrugged my shoulders.  “I wasn’t accepted to the school I wanted, so now I’m just waiting it out.”  I stepped behind the register.  “Can I get you anything?”

           “No, I just saw you through the window and thought I should say ‘hi’!” She spun around on her bright pink heels.  “I hope everything works out!” She waved at me and started out the door, the two other girls in her wake.  Once she was gone, I felt my eyes roll.  How did I put up with that for four years?

           I spun the dial on the radio and the little shop was instantly filled with music.  Relaxing, I closed my eyes and swayed a bit.  Taking out my clip I let my hair fall.  My fingers followed all the notes and my feet followed the beat.  I lifted my hands up and pretended to conduct the music, letting it flow throughout me.

           If only I was accepted to that school.  Here I was, stuck in a cheap shop, making artwork out of coffee.

    The door rang and in stepped the drenched man from earlier that morning.  A vibrant smile lit his face.

    “That was quite a beautiful dance,” he said.  I looked down in embarrassment.  “Do you know what would give this old shop some pizazz?” he leaned on the counter, creating a miniature puddle. “Adding some music.”  I smiled.

“That isn’t a half bad idea, stranger” he shrugged his shoulders.

“I gotta release these creative ideas somewhere.  So,” he leaned over further, “do you have any openings?”