Hi!

How has the weekend been?

I just worked one of my favorite shifts ever and, as per usual, have some things to say about it. From the feeling of five a.m to the living, breathing body that is a city.

But first, I have to tell you.

I got an A on my Spanish quiz. What started as an annoying requirement has become an actual love of mine. I’m even listening to Spanish music, which, also started as an awkward attempt to learn but has since become a very serious interest.

EARLY MORNINGS IN THE CITY

I’m fully convinced that the early morning hours hold the secrets of this world.

I opened the coffee shop today, so I woke up around 5:30. Technically, this is unnecessarily early. But I like to make oatmeal with wild blueberries and have time to breathe the morning air instead of running around. I unlocked the cafe around 6:30. When I first got these shifts, the thoughts of coherently being somewhere at six in the morning sounded insane. But it has become one of my favorite times. There is a certain feeling to the world in the early morning hours that can’t be explained. It’s quiet and sleepy and it always makes me feel more fully human. It’s full of potential energy. Everything is just waiting to happen. Have you ever walked through a city during those early hours? There is this communal vibration that can’t be missed. Coffee shops and restaurants and hotels and banks are all setting up. Tables are being put out, umbrellas pushed up, delivery tucks unloaded. They are opening their doors to you. The whole world is opening up for you. And for the man reading his newspaper on the bus and for the new mom pushing her colicky baby in the stroller and for the nice Italian man who tells me that he has been making pizza dough all night across the street while I pour his coffee. Community.

I turn the music on as the regulars begin to trickle in. It feels special when you know someone’s order without them having to say anything. Take a seat. I’ll bring it right out. I eat my oatmeal while the beans grind and a bagel pops up in the toaster. The world is waking up. They are crawling out of bed and standing in line for breakfast and hot coffee. I am their angel in that moment.

WHY KIDS ARE COOL

My boss and his young son arrived later and I told him about the show Invasion, which is still amazing by the way, and we got into a fun conversation about space. Fermi’s Paradox, the multiverse theory, the future of space travel, and whatever the hell Elon Musk is doing. If you don’t know, I have a nerdy obsession with space. I will talk to you about stellar fusion and the logistics of colonizing Mars any day. He told me he saw a UFO once. I believed him. It was great. Then he asked me if I would let his young son help out. I looked at his son’s eager little face and said of course. At first I was unsure of what tasks to delegate to a nine year old, but he was a total pro. He helped me make coffee, spread cream cheese, assemble sandwiches, and restock pastries. I think it’s so important to let kids do things, to give them that sense of self-efficacy. If he put the cucumber slices on the bagel in a different way or set the muffins out without any order, I stopped myself from correcting him. However he wanted to express himself through the arrangement of that sandwich or pastry display case was okay with me.

As the day went on he even took some orders and followed me around with plates of food like a little duckling, which of course made each customer melt. When it slowed down, I tackled the ever-difficult task of conversing with a child. What do you say to tiny humans who still look up at you like you have all the answers? I asked him about school and food and what he likes to do. He said art. I smiled. Not Fortnite or TikTok or Netflix, but art. He told me that he drew a cheetah last week for school that turned out so cool. He has been pretty shy and quiet all morning, taking his word very seriously and what not, but talking about that drawing made him light up. He was telling me all about it and it made my artistic soul swell up. It reminded me why I love talking to kids. They are honest and pure and they aren’t thinking about what you will say or how you will react. They are just telling you about their world and what it feels like. Such a simple skill, yet one that many adults that I know struggle to reveal.

SOME SWEET MOMENTS

After the kid left, this one older customer came in who was more excited about life than anyone tends to be before ten in morning. He asked me for a drink recommendation without sugar, so I said a Café Au Lait with oat milk. He was newly diabetic and seemed doubtful that anything without sugar could be good. I told him to trust me. A few minutes after I gave it to him, his friend came up and told us that he couldn’t stop raving about it. My coworker and I kind of laughed because it was such a simple drink. He ended up ordering another one and telling me that it was the best thing ever. He couldn’t stop. He asked if I work everyday and when I told him no, he made sure to have me tell him exactly what to ask for. It was the cutest thing ever. He was so happy and it took so little.

The rest of that shift unfolded in a haze. The morning rush came and I found myself running to the restaurant next door to get more ice, a field trip that they have come to expect from us. They saw me with the bucket and led me right to the machine with a smile. Community. After the rush died out, it slowed down and I got to talk to the customers for longer. I asked one guy what he was up to and when he told me he had just gone to my favorite book store I, of course, needed more information. We got into a conversation about science fiction novels and communism in the 80s. It was great. I told another that I loved her outfit and she lit up and told me that my hat looked great on me. I love when women have those cute little moments of lifting each other up that seem to chip away at the trauma that girlhood inevitably stained us all with. Coming into full adulthood, I am trying all of the time to undo that damage. I want to be the woman who lifts other women up, who is so confident in her own existence that she’s inspired, not threatened by, another cool girl. What a world we would have.

The end of my shift came. I grabbed my coat and walked out into the alley with a handful of tips and a pair of filthy, coffee stained vans to show for them. Sometimes after a weekend morning shift, I want to explode. I need to decompress. But today I felt calm. I felt a part of something. The streets had a completely different feeling to them as I walked through them mid-day. Those early morning hours were long gone. Secrets were no longer on display. Everything was in its place and the show was on. People were fully dressed, fully awake. In a few hours, weekend night life would begin and the world would change all over again. Set designers would run across the stage, replacing the props, preparing for the next act. The curtain would rise. Action.

Happy Sunday. ❤

all my love, -m.

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