I feel like trying out something completely new here on shoeonthemoon. I want to share my stories and make you think and maybe even feel something. I hope that upon reading this you’ll notice some of the little things in life yourself and appreciate them just a little more.
Here I am, sitting at a café, drinking my regular mango chai and killing time by writing in my notebook. Quite a poetic view. The barista is lovely. She’s helping everyone and anyone. She knows the clients. She knows the best choice for youngsters is a takeout – it looks great on instagram, it’s convenient and young people aren’t really all that picky anyway.
And here comes a middle-aged couple. She knows they’re rare guests at any café. She recommends some simple teas and coffees. And, of course, the lady orders black tea and the gentleman has an espresso. The barista knows they’d prefer a regular porcelain cup, rather than a takeout. She knows.
A man walks in. She recognises him. She asks politely, ‘the regular?’ She knows he usually pays by card. She knows. She knows certain buyers like to talk. She’s positive, she sees a young person – she may ask about their studies. Even if she doesn’t remember what they study from that time a couple of weeks ago when they were here, she will get away with a ‘wait, what was it, social sciences or..?’ And then follow with a ‘right! Of course!’ She doesn’t know their names. She doesn’t have to, she can call everybody ‘you’ and it’s perfectly acceptable. She knows how to make you feel like you’re her best friend in those few minutes that it takes to order and make a cup of coffee. She makes you feel special. She knows what to say and how to fake a smile, if needed, to make sure you leave happy. Even if she’s having a bad day.
A lady approaches me saying she’s been robbed. She asks for money, of course. She doesn’t seem like your regular homeless person, but she’s definitely not your regular passerby either. You can tell something is off about her. But of course! Here comes the lovely barista and asks the lady to leave.
Maybe I should have given her some money? You know people like that always leave this feeling – should I have?