Hangout Paradise

Everyone’s in line, everyone’s eager. It’s way too early in the morning to not have coffee, and these people need it now. Two run-down looking girls reminisce about the night before. “Oh my god, did I? I don’t even remember that.” Giggle. Brush it off ladies, brush it off. Soon you’ll be a little less hungover and a lot more caffeinated. If only this damn line would move.

Entering the line: two Asian boys speaking a language only they can understand. Or at least they’re the only people at this coffee house that can understand. People look, stare, wondering what they’re saying. “Do you think they’re talking about us?” Probably. Fun for them and unfortunately for us we’ll never know though. Maybe I’ll take Korean next semester.

The employees in the back are chipper and quick – they know their jobs like the back of their hands. You could say the smile on their faces are from the caffeine, but I prefer to think they actually like their jobs. After a few jokes are exchanged and a few laughs are had, I’m thinking I might be right.

And then there’s the kids at our table. We get there at the right times to avoid lines. We know the right times to avoid lines because we’re there so much. The employees know our names and don’t upcharge us for extra espresso. We sit at the same table every day, and watch the day slide by. Having cigarettes as members of the group come and go. The employees turn it to the radio station we like. And we sit at our bench.

The line moves along and the boys and the girls all receive their drinks. We’ll all leave eventually, but not yet. For now we’re just here. Drinking our coffee.