Sittin' in a Starbucks

So here I am sitting in a Starbucks on a rainy afternoon. There's a rockabilly guy behind the counter making drinks. He looks stressed, like he's about to pop. The cute, smiling girl taking orders doesn't seem to notice. Over in the corner, a musician is packaging a supply of CD's for distribution. He calls his grandfather (who he calls "Pappa") to let him know that he's ok. All tattooed and pierced, with a chip on his shoulder but he tells pappa, "I love you" as he hangs up. A table of college underclass girls sit talking about nothing and giggling obnoxiously. A bald guy in his early 30's is talking life with an older man. I hear the word "church" then "discipleship." One woman at a table for four is sitting in a corner with a laptop. A couple of older ladies are mumbling while drinking their carmel machiattos. A middle aged man sits by himself in one of the "comfy" chairs. He seems mildly preoccupied as he stares out a window. The music is disturbing today, so far I have heard "puff the magic dragon," "the lion sleeps tonight," "there was an old lady who swallowed a fly," and "dey-oh" by Harry Bellafonte. It's not that bad though, the conversations are loud enough to drown out the music. One girl behind the counter keeps looking at me in a paranoid manner. I bet she thinks I'm writing about her. And the guy making drinks still looks stressed. Maybe he's had too much coffee for today.

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