Interesting People

Working in a coffee shop, especially one in Maui, must be the best way to meet a variety of fascinating people. Besides the obvious attraction to the young guys visiting from Europe or backpacking all around the world, I’m endlessly intrigued by our customers. Here are some of my favorites:

James and Michael John, the two down-and-out men who come in every single night and order the same four things between the two of them: a quad espresso, a small tea in a medium cup, a small cup of iceless water, and a large cup of waterless ice. They argue like an old married couple about who gets the stamp on the frequent drinker card and then Mike talks to me for a while about politics and his experience growing up in his grandmother’s whorehouse (where he started drinking coffee and smoking at age six). They stay ‘till close, take any and all samples that are out, hide whatever books they’re reading behind a stack of magazines, and then sit outside late into the night.

Petr, a super friendly smiley guy from Czechoslovakia. He reminds me of my uncle Willem.

Andrew, a backpacker who’s on his way to India. He works wherever he can and is applying to an awesome-sounding journalism program. I wish I could get to know him better but am way too shy.

Paul, one of the Border’s employees. He always gets a chocolate javakula (frappaccino) with extra chocolate and says he likes the way I make them.

Jade, an adorable girl, maybe around ten, who gets cold-brewed vanilla lattes and is really, really polite.

Marty, an older gentleman who speaks a million languages (well, Portuguese, Spanish, French, Chinese, and English, anyway) and tries to ask me questions in French. Today he came up to the counter three times and ordered a kid’s hot chocolate every time.

This guy whose name I can’t remember who is really talkative and likes to play the “did you know…?” game (“Did you know the origin of the word ‘blackmail…’?”). He says it’s good to be wrong because it makes you learn new things.

Even though I get really mired down in self-pity because I’ve worked eleven hours a day for five days in a row (between my two jobs), I have to remember how fortunate I am not only to have work but to get plenty of hours and to actually really enjoy the job (the coffee shop one, not the cleaning one). I know this sounds trite, but it’s such a blessing.