The Latte Lifestyle
A cool breeze from the snow-capped San Gabriel Mountains drifted into the valley as I walked the three blocks from my home to the San Benito Coffee House. Inside, I wandered to the back corner of the coffee shop and found my favorite seat beneath an overburdened oak bookcase. To my left a small fireplace crackled and the warm glow of the hickory embers made my fingers tingle as they thawed.
I breathed in the fragrant mixture of fresh coffee and hickory smoke, and relaxed to the sound of a barista pouring coffee beans into a glass canister.
Behind me a throng of customers rushed in and out of the coffee shop, as if late for an appointment or en route to a fire. I checked the antique railroad clock above the fireplace mantel and noticed an hour had slipped into the past. It was 8:45 AM. Fifteen minutes short of the hour I used to frame my life around.
“Can you make that to go?” A man shouted to a barista. “I’m late for work.”
I poked the fire with a stick and watched as the young man who was “late for work” splashed coffee on his shirt and tie as he swung the door open and darted into the street.
“If you had fifteen minutes and an open mind I could free you from your time pressed and financially strapped life,” I mumbled and watched a green flame in the fireplace flare up and die.
“Your usual, Jon?” Maria asked from behind the counter after the morning rush cleared out.
“Add a dash of cinnamon,” I said. “I’m celebrating.”
“Is it your birthday or your anniversary?” Maria asked as she deftly measured coffee beans into the grinder.
“Neither,” I said. “Today marks the first anniversary of my retirement.”
