The guys and gals were readying to close up the café a few doors from my shop. I go almost every day for my afternoon pick-me-up, around the same time. I try to read the mood of the room before I start kibitzing. I’ve been in the service industry in one form or other my whole life, so I am sensitive to the kind of exhaustion I very well know it can bring.
The room was tired.
When I asked about the new carbohydrate arrival under the glass dome, Keri gave me the monotone drone description, trying her best to add a little enthusiasm just for me, at the end.
There was only one left and it sounded good.
Twisted and flaked pastry,
Swirled with “everything” blend of spices
With a creamed cheese filling
The droning of the hive buzzed on as I fixed the coffee to my liking and Keri bagged the knot.
Transaction complete, I received my treat and yelped,
“Oh, goody! Something new for my mouth!”
Every little tired hipster froze in mid-sweep
and the room filled with buoyant laughter.
The twenty-something boys blushed and giggled.
The ladies rolled their eyes, filled with light.
I twirled my fifty-year-old, broad-ass out the door with a flip and a turn
and I thanked God for his Gift.