“If you could read my mind love

What a tale my thoughts could tell

Just like an old time movie

‘Bout a ghost from a wishin’ well”

-Gordon Lightfoot

It’s been what feels like 10 minutes that I’ve been staring out of the café window along the wooden coffee bar watching the last of the reds, oranges and yellows fall from the trees when I finally snap out of it as the front door edges open and the sound of cars driving on wet pavement disrupt the distortions of Explosions in the Sky currently muddling the air.

 

 

 

I’m glancing over to see whose walking inside as he wipes his slick, black rubber boots on the gritty high-pile welcome mat.  Perhaps just about six feet tall, medium build wearing a hunter-green hooded rain jacket.  Water is running off him as he walks to the counter pulling back his hood to reveal such a handsome face I emote from the gut upwards – feeling a momentary headiness then realizing I’m no longer daydreaming.

I lock-in.

Adorned in brown hair with hazel eyes sporting a five o’clock shadow though it’s only ten in the morning he steals a quick look at me then up at our menu.

“A double-tall soy mocha for ya?”

“Um… sure.  How’d you know?” says my Hunter in Green.

I justify my assumption,

“You look like a soy mocha kind of guy… but no whip.  Total is going to be $3.81.”

The gentleman hands me a faded green $5 bill and I give him the appropriate change.  He drops the entire contents of what I’ve placed in the palm of his hand right into the brightly colored yellow-glazed clay jar adjacent to the register.  It’s marked TIPS.

“Thanks… Frank.”

He pulls back away after inspecting my chest, as I begin to wonder why he’s leaned in so close.

I say thank you and I smile – readjusting my nametag just above my right pec for no apparent reason other than this gorgeous man just said my name.

“I’ll have your drink at the end of the bar in just a few moments.”

He makes eye contact just long enough for me to lock-in concentration again and get a pulse on what he’s thinking –

Wow!  How’d he know my drink order?  I’ve never even been here before.  Well… he’s actually kinda cute.

Now I’m blushing and I turn away fidgeting with the carafes for our regular and decaf drip coffee service: tossing out the old grounds, putting on new filters and loading-in some fresh Nicaraguan.  The light powers on orange and the coffee maker begins filling with water.  I rotate around to the front of the counter and line up two shot glasses on our La Marzocco then start packing the freshly ground espresso beans of our Harvest Blend.  I initiate the pulling of the shots.

I’m the only one working the front of the house at the moment while my co-worker is in the back pulling out pastries from our ovens.  While the machine agitates I grab the bus tub along the edge of the counter grabbing any used dishes at the tables throughout the main seating area.

I turn my head back at the Hunter in Green.

“It’ll be right up.”

Our eyes meet and I lock-in again to the flow of his thoughts –

Frank the barista.  Hmm… is he single?  Frank and Douglas sounds like a good pair.

My ears turn red as I look away trying to comprehend the reality of what I locked-into –

Yes!  Yes, I’m single and I’ve been waiting for you, oh Hunter in Green, to walk into MY neck of the woods and take me away like the November wind brushes away the leaves of the season.

Fully amped up though not having yet had my mid-morning barista shift drink yet, I stuff the last mug and saucer I find on the tables in my dish tub while scurrying back around the counter.

As I drop my bus tub by the sink and look in through the kitchen door windows I see Martha’s face.  I lock-in eye contact to her –

Frank needs to get in here and bring out these croissants.

Yelling through the door I let Martha know I’ll be in after I fix this drink.  She seems satisfied by that statement.

I’ve got the soy milk container in my hand pouring it in the pitcher as I turn on the steam wand putting together the beverage I’m obligated to.

Soy Mocha… er.. Douglas is leaning against the wall now smiling and watching me more intently.

 

“Double-Tall Soy Mocha for Douglas!”

He pops up when he hears his name just like role call in elementary school.  He has a fairly confident stride about three to five steps in until he reaches the beverage pedestal.  His brow is furrowed… confused.  He looks at me again.  I lock-in –

How did he know my name?

He grabs the 12oz paper cup and takes a sip.

“Extra hot… just how I like it.” He smiles and winks at me.

Too easy.  We stare into each other’s eyes.

I make an understatement taking one more glance up and down,

“Extra hot, indeed!”