Coffee Chuckles

“Good Morning, What would you like?” says the older lady behind the glowing display of morning treats. “Café Mocha, please” replies the half asleep student. “Medium or Large?” “Large,” says the student with a yawn. (It must be an especially rough morning.) The line automatically shifts to the left. The cashier lady says, “That’ll be 2.95.” The chi ching of the register soon follows. This robotic line continued for a good while with students constantly filing in. Then a sudden lull set in. (Class must have started.) RZ’s sets into a hushed calm. Students sit one at each table in the room as if the presence of another person at the four person tables would be an invasion of personal space. All is calm. The students do one of three things: type, read, or nap with only the exception of the occasional cross-word puzzle solver. (He is either lucky with no homework or just a lazy student.) The ladies behind the counter carry-on their normal conversations as if they aren’t disturbing the diligent studiers, or possibly they think people actually care that they wished they lived in Australia. No one seems to be listening but I’m sure they are all commenting to themselves. They’re probably thinking what I’m thinking, “What’s the difference between working in a coffee shop here and one in Australia? Sand?”