Observations in a cafe

While sitting in a café in Maple Grove, I was covertly observing the people in the café…

An adolescent taps her foot on the ground, to a beat that is much quicker than the elevator music in the background. Her eyes wander from side to side, as she waits for the next customer to come to the counter. When the next person does come, her face goes into plastic mode; her features are twisted into a non-genuine smile. The teen keeps this facial expression when she rings up the customer. But as soon as the customer says, “Thank You. Bye”, she redeems her previous expression.  She turns and discovers me staring at her. The teen narrows her eyes and forces her plastic smile.

At the neighboring table, couple, brunette and blonde women with stethoscopes and lab coats, chat about their current medical cases at hand. The doctor exclaims, “We were finally able to get that little sucker out after 14 hours!” Her colleague smiles and pats her on the back. They chat about frivolous matters, in order to keep themselves awake. Once in a while the brunette’s head starts to bow down. However, after few seconds of being phased, it snaps back up and her brown eyes become twice as large as they originally were. Once the two medical professionals have finished their bowl of lettuce, tomatoes, croutons, and dressing, they gaze at my onion rings in wonder. The straight-haired blonde, is urged into my unhealthy lifestyle as she order her own plate of onion rings.

A young woman, with brown hair tied up in a blonde bun, a loose fitted shirt, and a scarf, gazes at her Apple screen. As she types, her numerous rings clack to a certain tempo. Her ice blue eyes dart back and forth, while she gazes at the screen. Her face maintains a blank expression; achieving the ultimate poker face.  Periodically, she pauses and extends her frail arms towards the steaming hot cup of coffee. The coffee is consumed slowly, as she carefully tips the cup towards her mouth. But then her pupils dilate and her neutral expression turns to a frown. The mac sign off ring tone just appeared. Her fingers move at a rapid speed to recover her work. But her efforts are not fruitful. Instead, a thin stream of salt-water runs down her face. She clutches her head, and exclaims a silent moan.