Setting, Date, Time of Day: Friday Jan. 25, 12 pm to 1 pm
I’m sitting inside Starbucks in
The carafe is surprisingly cold, considering how warm it is inside the shop and due to the fact that the carafe is just sitting on the counter; not in an ice bucket or anything. It is a black, cylindrical canister with a top that I twist to open and close. The handle is thick and easy to hold, but overall, the carafe is thin. It probably only holds half a gallon of milk at a time. There are many different add-ins at this station. There is soy milk, whole milk, 2 percent milk, all in the same style carafe. There also are a few spices to choose from, such as nutmeg, vanilla, and cinnamon. These spices are in a regular clear bottle, silver top salt and pepper shakers. All of the milks and spices are labeled with computer printed labels that have been taped on. There are three different sugars to choose from: Domino sugar packets, Splenda packets, and Equal packets. There are three large stacks of straws and coffee stirrers, all white with red stripes. There also is a smaller stack of green straws, usually used for the frozen drinks. The surrounding neighborhood is residential and it looks nice. From where I am sitting inside, TGI Friday’s is on the right, and Hippo's Home Entertainment is on the left. I am moderately comfortable. The chairs aren’t too comfortable, but it could be worse.
There are about eight tables and chairs inside the shop, identical to the one I am sitting at. The tables are brown on top with black iron legs, and the chairs have black metal backs, and green cushions. The walls are a brownish/tan color. There are hanging lights throughout the shop, but the majority of the light comes from the sun streaming through the front windows. From my chair, I can see through an open door behind the counter and to the left where there are similar chairs stacked in the back of the shop. These stacked chairs go outside on the little patio in the warmer weather. I wish it was warm outside, but it is warm inside the shop, so I can’t complain. I can also see outside the large windows and watch a decent amount of shoppers walk by. A few CDTA buses drive by, as do many cars. The buses are noisy, as is the shop with all the machines working and people talking with each other. A nickname for this Starbucks could be a-Starbucks -where-everyone-is-too-busy.
People-Watching
No one talks to me the entire hour I am here, but during the first half of the hour, I overhear a conversation between the counter girls about where they want to go out tonight. Both girls are wearing mostly black with a green apron and visor. The blonde twenty something year old suggests Skyline, the local club, but the red head (who will later clean up the mess on the floor) prefers to go to a local bar.
Red Head: “It’s too crowded downtown. Plus it’s cheaper to go to a bar. And they’re closer too.”
Blondie: “Yeah, but I like to grind and dance and meet cute guys. I’ll only see old men at the bars up here. And even if I am shit-faced, I won’t be going home with anyone older than 25!” Their tone is casual; they aren’t arguing, but debating.
Another pair, possibly a thirty something couple, is arguing because the man spilled a full coffee into one of their Talbots shopping bags. The woman is wearing black slacks and boots, with a red coat and white hat. The man is wearing dark jeans, puma sneakers, and a gray pea coat. He has no hat or scarf, but is holding a pair of gray gloves. As he quickly pulls everything out of the Talbots bag, the woman sighs heavily and he snaps,
“Well if you weren’t up my ass with all these bags, maybe it wouldn’t have happened.”
A college-aged couple, a few tables away, is smirking and stifling laughter as this whole scene is unfolding. I also cannot look up and make eye contact in fear that I will laugh out loud, so I just listen and write everything down.
She quickly snaps back, “If you weren’t a clumsy dickhead, maybe you could have held onto the cup. Did you not think it was hot?”
Then they walked out. I’d like to hear the rest of that fight. The woman reminds me of myself regarding her sarcasm. Her style of fighting is also mine.
Facing me is a young man on his Mac laptop. He seems to be writing something very important because he keeps looking through a law book as he writes and doesn’t look around at the other people. I can’t see what he is writing though. He is wearing khaki pants, brown dress shoes, and a black pea coat. I think he is wearing a brown shirt, but I can only see a tiny vee of it under his neck. A lady on a cell phone walks in and grabs my attention away from the writer.
This lady is especially obnoxious; she has a loud, ear piercing laugh, and laughs a LOT. She like, talks, like, with a like, heavy valley-girl accent. How annoying. I want her to leave ASAP. She leaves after about 25 torturous minutes. She is wearing tan Ugg boots, light jeans, and a long red coat. Her purse is a large, expensive, bright green Coach bag. How do I know this? I’m a purse-aholic and I can spot expensive bags, which I cannot afford, anywhere!
Another scene begins to unfold as an older man, maybe around 60, drops his coffee all over the floor and counter because someone bumped into him. Blondie counter girl feels bad and gives him a new one for free. Red Head counter girl gets the mop and bucket to clean the floor. It looks moldy and gross, but it gets the job done. I can hear the sloshing of the water and cleaner on the floor. A bright yellow wet floor sign is put up. The floor is shiny where the mop left behind water droplets. The old man is wearing black pants, shoes, and wool jacket, with a black news-boy cap and walks with a brown cane.
Awhile later, a lady with black stiletto heels slips on the wet floor, but regains her balance and doesn’t crash down. She has gray pants and a gray suit jacket. Her scarf is purple, as are her gloves. Her jacket is a black pea coat with large buttons. Many of the women seem to be over dressed, but maybe they are on lunch or a quick break from work.
The last 20 minutes of this hour are very quiet. There is only one other customer in here with me, the Computer Guy. Other than his keyboard clicking and the soft rock music of the shop, there is no other sound. Even the employees are not speaking to each other.
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