today at Max.

Kind of a slow morning here in coffee land. Its weird being here so early. Sometimes by the end of the day it feels like two different days have happened.
I've been doing this for 4 months, and the early morning part of it still gets to me a lot. I feel like I should be old enough by now that my body gets that it is SUPPOSED to be awake. But alas, I still struggle to maintain consciousness until about 10:00 or so.
Anyhow, just another day here in Max's. The best part of my job is meeting and talking with the people that come in here. New people come in, and new stories are learned, and new senses are sharpened. Another great thing is when friends come in. Does it get better than to be at work, AND visit with your friends? One of my favorite friends came in yesterday morning as she exited the night shift from the night before; a start to my day, and an end to her day.

The morning rolls onward, and the old men have come, and sat, and talked about golf, church, their wives, the latest colonoscopy, and the next nap they get to take.
I love the "old guys". They are fun to talk to because they are at a point in life where life just "is", and there is no pretending anymore about what life is not.
Then they will leave to tend to whatever duties they attend to, and then I wait for the next round of customers.

At 9:30 my coffee counter-part comes in to join me in the secret Max Porter's antics, and to prepare for lunch. I am comforted by their arrival, as there are days when it can be a little lonely. Lunch prep and laughter: a great combination.

Usually after about 9 its a couple of women on a "catch-up" coffee date. They come, order some kind of latte, and then politely argue over who will pay for it. Then they sit for an hour or two digressing the past happenings of life in the last couple weeks.
Around this time you also have the people with an awkward chunk of free time that they are trying to fill, or perhaps the office employee needing to get through the morning duldrums. These are some of my favorite customers, as we often exchange new conversation and hear-say, and develop an actual relationship that would have never existed if they didn't have a coffee need, and if I didn't want to fill it.

The other day a mom of a 6 year old boy came in. She had just sent her son off to his first day of school, and she didn't know what to do with herself. She didn't even know what to order. I finally coaxed out of her unwilling and emotional memory that she likes decaf-soy lattes. So I made her one. I asked her if she was okay, and as I made her the drink of comfort, tears came out while she described the morning her baby went off into the world of public school. I told her he would be okay, and that her unconditional love for him would ultimately protect him from the pains of being in the real world. She left with a smile. And a cupcake.

After the morning meanderers come and go, in comes the lunch crowd. The third part of the Max's employee trifecta is made complete at 12:00 when our last worker arrives. There is a sense of confidence that comes with this person's arrival: now we know we can handle "lunch", and all that it entails. This is usually someone I haven't seen in several days, and it is always nice to reconnect with a member of the tribe.

Part of lunch is the 50-60 somethings going through time together over tea and a turkey-cranberry sandwich. They talk of children, grandchildren, weddings, divorces, funerals, and the other friend that couldn't make it to lunch that day.

We also get the lunch-break worker. They come in 1-2 times a week, and order the same sandwich each time. These specific sandwiches cater to the tastes of the individual, and as the sandwich maker, I tend to pass judgement on the seemingly boring or too abstract tastes of the sandwich consumer. But really, what I judge as boring is actually a carefully selected and enjoyed flavor; treasured by the eater.

As lunch dwindles off, the afternoon slump hits, and we get the office workers needing one last jolt to make it til five. We lean on the counter, exchange witty banter, and then get back to our jobs.

3:00.
Clean up begins.
Everything done that morning is undone, the lights go off, and the doors close.
The community that gathers here is on pause until tomorrow, when we see each other again. And isn't that what we want? To see each other? Oh wait, maybe its just coffee...