The beauty of working in a coffee shop is the people. The customers. The patrons. Its half 11 on a Tuesday morning. The rush is finished everyone is caffeinated and tucked up nicely at work. What we are left with is the time of the day that gets weird, in between the regular lunch and after work rush we get the interesting folk.
At 11.45 a man came in with a younger woman, she tried to kiss him at the door but he pushed her away and ushered her quickly inside.
”1 dry cappuccino and a medium skinny latte”
“Can I interest you in one of our fantastic bakewells to go with your coffee”
” No!’ he snaps chucking his 20 at me like I am a stripper in a nightclub.
They sit down the back of the shop, away from the window, unseeing from the bar. I can see them having an argument while I clear the tables, stopping when I am in earshot. The woman is crying, your mind wonders with these types of people, they are regulars but they don’t always use the same shop twice. They leave a bit happier, he hops into a black cab with her right out the front.
Our second interesting customer is a man in a fine three piece suit, he picks up a green bottle of sparkling water and orders a small black americano, goes to a wall table, lays out his two phones, staring at them, clearly waiting for one to ring. He ducks his face down when the British Transport Police came into the shop for their mocha’s. Two heavyset officers, their radio’s constantly lighting up.
The time of the day in between the rushes of regular customers, you get these interesting interactions with customers. You rarely know everything they are up to or the real story but for a creative writer like me your mind can run wild.
I like reminiscing about these people because they will one day become characters in one of my books.