Scribbles from a Coffeehouse

Coffee shops simply come alive with stories, you almost need two dedicated pens to capture it all. 

The whirl of the espresso machine as it doles out one’s daily allotment of legal addictive stimulant. The barista’s quick, “Hi, how are ya?” followed by a rapid staccato of, “Thanks, have a nice day!” Ceramic cups catch glints of the setting sun as cars, two-door sedans and SUVs alike, refract light in rotating fashions. 

As I people watch, I notice another people-watcher. A person watching the people-watcher, there’s an odd phenomenon. She looks and scribbles, looks and scribbles, scribbles and looks just as I do. Dueling writers compete at the coffeehouse, a circus of inspiration. 

Drinks move so quickly on and off the counter, it is difficult to tell where one ends and another begins. Tall, grande, hot, iced, half-caff, decaf, and the strong stuff just sitting there in perfect chocolate bliss encased by ivory. 

Suddenly, without warning, my coffee date stands to leave. Pages rustle together as I gather my self, thoughts interrupted. High heels click the tile floor as I cast one last glance at the corner booth where my unspoken companion writes away. I am forced to cast the white flag, she has won the writing duel. 

1 Comment

  1. Bek on August 1, 2012 at 3:54 am

    fun! 😀

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