Paul

“Order 21, three lattes! Pick up!” I turned around to start staging the next order, two slim cappuccinos and a long black. Somebody in that group was having a night. My hands moved around as me and the other barista, Charlie, flowed back and forth behind the bar of the coffee shop. It was a little coastal gig on the southern peninsula of CON 1. Nestled between enough academic and corporate buildings to catch a lot of traffic, tonight was no exception.

I love working nights. You get to see the whole palette of people. All across the spectrum ya know? It’s not like the morning rush, where we’re just a conveyor belt stop on their way to work or school or whatever. Or the mid-day lull where we turn into a library and there’s a computer, tablet, and mobile on a table for every cup of coffee we put out. But, nights? You see people when they’ve made it out the other side and are thinking about going back for more. Mixed in with those who’ve had enough, and the people who are getting around to work the dark hours.

Like me.

The pieces of conversation you pick up in a job like this go along with the tips, both good and bad. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. At least for now. Maybe someday, I’ll go to school, or get a ‘real job’, but I’m happy man. Even with the longer hours. “Two cappuccinos and long black, order 22 pick up!” I called out to the crowded room and a distracted twenty-something jolted out of his chair to come get the drinks.

“Paul, I can get the rest of this shift if ya like. I know you haven’t had a chance to eat yet. Maybe grab something on the way?” Charlie was trying to be nice, since I helped get his mobile fixed for cheap last month. Dating apps are important to some people, especially if you’re paying for them.

I sipped some water, “You sure? You know how it goes when staff leave man. Shit goes sideways.” He laughed, stacking clean cups, “I’ll risk it, it’s slow, and its Thursday night. Get out of here.” I undid my apron and cleaned up my station, “Your funeral man, I’ll catch you later.” Waving I headed out the door and down the somewhat busy street. The sidewalk was wide, lined with palm trees, and soft lights. The waves of the ocean on the opposite side of the road threw salt into the air.

Breathing deep, I popped my earbuds in and started my walk, blasting some new tracks from my buddy across town. Not blow-your-mind stuff, but not bad. After a few minutes I made it to my favorite diversion during what I called ‘shift change’, a taco stand on the ocean walk. Putting out the best one-handable burrito you’ll ever have, and cervezas to go. Most of the stuff was homemade too, hard to find these days.

Loaded up, I kept on going. Listening to the music and trying to convince myself that carnitas was medicinal. The tastes, smells, sounds, and sights melded all together into a little slice of nirvana. For another ten minutes I ate, drank, walked, and watched as ships departed the spaceport in the distance. Heading out over the water before turning for any one of hundreds of destinations.

Finishing up my dinner, or was it breakfast? Whatever. I tossed the remnants in a rubbish bin as I came to the gate. After scanning my ID, I passed onto the Academy grounds. Making my way through the garden and the various monuments and memorials, I arrived at the museum and my other job. The sky to the East just above the horizon was lightening as I started to open.

The lobby coffee shop wasn’t anything to write home about, but what they lacked in capacity they made up for in quality. The beans I had behind this bar were only available at a couple other spots in the city. I left the lights down for a minute as I whipped up a double espresso for myself, something to counteract the pork, beans, rice, and booze that were threatening to slow me down. No matter how delicious.

Taking my time with the grind, the water, and the pour I savored each part. Snagged a fresh apron from the back and put it on, although these ones were sleek, they were modest, made you feel taller. I took a long sniff of the fresh cup, and a longer pull. The sun was just coming over the horizon, and the first rays were hitting the tops of buildings. I watched the morning come through the floor to ceiling windows.

Somebody was jogging out of the garden, one of the cadets it looked like, he had the clothes to fit the part. I didn’t recognize him, but then again, the latest batch had checked in about a week ago. Kid looked tired, and as he came to the Arctic Campaign Memorial, he stopped. I took another draw and watched as he faced it, bowed his head, crossed himself, and took off again.

I sipped, then started bringing the lights up. You meet all sorts of people in my job. And the best way I could say it was that no matter how many colors and how many brushes you use to paint them, there’s always a shade in between.

But man, do I love to watch.

My name’s Paul Moretti, and I help people get where they’re going.