Early morning in the coffee shop.
Low hum from the cooler, a few words from barista to customer.
The rustle of a newspaper. The slurp of a sip.
Easy. Relaxed. Heads down. Isolated.
Then a woman enters – a late-30s, early-40s professional
woman, a mom, big purse, cell phone, flying through on
her way to work, to show a house, to sign a deal.
She talks, non-stop, from the moment she enters,
through ordering, paying, getting change,
picking up her drink – oh, and did you get my
bean card updated? That’s right, “Morning Blend” –
one bag – do you need anything else? – through
engaging the person next to her while she
Then she’s off again, flying to the door and through,
her car roars and she’s gone.
And we look at each other for a moment, and look at the door,
Then go back to our papers and coffee
and the low hum is heard again.
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