I love people...

January 4, 2002

One of the many reasons why I quit my job as an accountant and took up a job as a wannabe-barista is that I got tired of looking at the fluorescent-lit white-washed-walls-with-no-windows every day.

And so, I can work at the caf� and get more intimate in my love affair with coffee. Hot, strong, and suggary. Oh, and people watch too. As you can guess, there are a number of interesting characters that come by. Like the guy who loves baseball and whipped cream. Or the ex-druggy gone clean. And, of course, the cutie-pie who has been stealing my tongs lately.

But any relationship goes through some rough spots. I admit, I take coffee for granted. I expect it to be there each and every time. And I get too dependent on coffee to get me through the day; I get cranky if I haven't had my fill. And just a little coffee doesn't do it anymore, I demand more.

And the people start to assume you don't have any feelings. They take certain things personally. They complain that I'm not being nice, or that I haven't been paying attention, or that I'm being a slob. So, these "criticisms" start to get on my nerves, and I begin to resent them.

Do I need time away? Do I need a break? If I stop drinking coffee, and try tea out, am I cheating? What if I look for another job, am I being unfaithful? But it's not the people, it's me, I think. Maybe I need time to sort things out.

But, whatever happens, we'll always be friends, right?