I never really considered the specifics of where I decided to create my oasis. It had a good price for a great place. However, whenever it hit autumn, I find myself regretting it a tiny bit.
Whenever morning comes, there's sure to be a crowd waiting for their chosen poison. I think that's what the girl in class used to call it. Coffee. Tea. Juice. Water. They were all chosen poisons.
Fall mornings filled my cafe with tons of murmurs, replacing the white noise.
Apart from my regulars and occasional stragglers, I usually received students from the neighboring schools, including the university. Sometimes the new visitors are kind, and other times not-so-nice people come. But I had one regular who came in for the first time this new semester with four new faces.
"Hey, Vera!"
He seemed like the characters you find in a Jane Austen novel, a little too perfect to be real, but real nevertheless.
"My friend here is looking for a part-time job. Thought you could use the help this sem."
His eyes were dark, highlighted by the bags under them. And thanks to the California weather, his bulking arms were out in the open.
Lem never brought friends with him before. I thought he considered Uri Story Cafe like I did, an oasis.
"Do you know how to use an espresso machine?" I asked casually as I prepared drinks for Lem and his friends.
"I used to work at the cafe three blocks from here." He pulled out a paper from his backpack. "I brought my resume if you'd care to look at it.”
He placed the paper on the counter and tried to straighten the creases to no avail.
“It’s alright,” I said.
He pressed his lips together into a distinguishable smile.
For some time, I left the paper sitting at the counter beside the cash register. The students walked in one after another, then Laverne like clockwork.
"Juice, Vera."
"Got it!" I smiled.
I took note of the bruises on her hands and her thinning frame. I'd never been one to recommend books to any guest, but she looked like she could use a pick-me-up.
"Have you tried Jennae Cecelia before, Laverne?"
I punched in her order and scanned her card.
"Who's that?"
"She's a poet of our generation. You should check her out."
The girl nodded, a faint smile on her face.
I turned away to ready her order.
"Lav!" Lem shouted from across the room.
The other regulars were unbothered by this, but many of the new faces were put off by his loudness, as any would in a library.
Laverne didn't move, but I saw her wave at him.
"You can find her in the new section since I just got the books yesterday."
"Oh, the ones you were organizing." She noted.
I nodded.
"Thanks, Vera."
Finally finding the chance to take a break, I picked up the crumpled paper and looked over the boy's credentials. High school graduate. Expected. But the list of recent jobs had taken a bulk of the resume, much of them without an end date.
I glanced at the group of them.
"So he's a part-timer for all of this?" I whispered.
I wasn't sure I wanted to hire someone who juggled too many jobs already.
"Nah, he's quitting the rest since it's a new sem."
I jolted back.
"Chris. Christopher Tindall. Art major. I used to come here when the old lady used to run it. Before it became Uri Story and was just Story."
My wide-eyed look must have been too apparent as he laughed.
"That's a long introduction," I chuckled.
"Yeah, well. Just saying, you know."
I did.
"So you knew Mrs. Daniels."
"You could say that. How do you know her? You're like what, in your 20s?"
"Aren't you as well?" I smiled.
He pursed his lips and nodded a bit solemnly.
"26. You?"
"22."
His mouth gaped for a second. “This is a good gig for you then, huh."
"Very much."
"Anyway, Aust usually quits these," he reached over the counter to point at a few jobs located far, "since you know, they're far."
I chuckled and nodded.
"Oh! By the way, can I order five," he brought up his hand, "sandwiches. 1 BLT, 1 Egg Drop Sando, 2 Wanpakus, and for me, the strawberry cream."
Though I was baffled by the variations in their order, I quickly went through the motions.
"I'll serve it to your table when it's done."
Maybe I did need a part-timer.
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