The Tornado in the Coffee Shop
Early morning in the coffee shop.
Low hum from the cooler, a few words from barista to customer.
The rustle of a newspaper. The slurp of a sip.
Easy. Relaxed. Heads down. Isolated.
Then a woman enters – a late-30s, early-40s professional
, a mom, big purse, cell phone, flying through on
way to work, to show a house, to sign a deal.
She talks, non-stop, from the moment she enters,
ordering, paying, getting change,
up her drink – oh, and did you get my
card updated? That’s right, “Morning Blend” –
bag – do you need anything else? – through
the person next to her while she
cream.
Then she’s off again, flying to the door and through,
her car roars and she’s gone.
And we look at each other for a moment, and look at the door,
Then go back to our papers and coffee
and the low hum is heard again.