momentary blues

by hillarymay

After an 8 hour work day of serving who knows what to who knows who, I collapse in a fold up chair in the back and slowly take off my overly worn I’ve-seen-better-days keds and slip into boots. I lug my green bag out of the office, throw on my blazer that reminds me of the days when I didn’t have to wear a green uniform, and walk through the back of the store into Peregrine Coffee: our lovely next door neighbor that makes soy lattés better than I ever could. I walk up to the counter of flannel wearing baristas and ask for a coffee. I could have easily poured myself a coffee before I left work I say, a free coffee at that, but the thought of having someone hand me coffee for once feels really, really nice. And after surveying the store for a few seconds, I choose the stool right next to the open door.

I am an anonymous customer. A worn down, uniform-wearing, can’t-feel-my-feet customer that is thankful for a momentary break. It’s only momentary though, because after this, I’ll be scrambling my brain for creative words that I can pen for tomorrow’s column.

Just never stops does it? Nope. So bring on that good coffee I say.