A man in a long trench coat sits across from me, drawing. He looks up and sees my large book and asks me if I am a doctor.

“Um, no. I’m in school.”

“Ahhhh. What are you doing in school?”

“Studying journalism and political science.”

“Well, let me tell you about this. . .”

He begins to tell me about how I could make a fortune if I wrote a book while I was in school. I could then enjoy my youth instead of punching the clock. I tell him, yes, I have had these same feelings before. We talk for a bit longer before I excuse myself back to my paper. He seems to be a very interesting man, but a little off.

I notice him staring at me for a bit. I become very uncomfortable and text a friend of mine. . .

“There is a man looking at me in the coffeeshop. I talked to him earlier and now he won’t stop staring at me.”

My friend is concerned and asks if she needs to come by. I tell her no, thanks, I should be okay. I’ll let her know if it gets weird.

He starts asking me about myself again and I start to get kind of scared. He hasn’t asked anything too personal or foreboding, but I’m wary with how much he keeps glancing my way. I get up refresh my cup of coffee, and text my friend saying I am definitely getting the willies and hopefully she can come soon.

I sit back down and he approaches my table. I’m afraid and I tense up when he hands me his drawing. It’s a picture of me. I’m taken aback.

“Well, if school doesn’t work out for you, you could always be a model.”

He packed up his things and left.

I felt bad that I took him to be creepy when he was drawing me a picture that he gave me. He was just being a genuinely nice person, interested in me, and creating a friendship, yet I took it to be something completely different. It saddens me that we live in a world where we think “stalker” before we think “friend.”

She took the smoothie and then grabbed my hand. I panicked. No one had ever grabbed my hand through the drive-thru before! She leaned farther out the window and looked straight into my eyes.

“God bless.”

Now, I’m not a particularly religious person, but this was quite the experience. I had heard people say “God bless” to me in other scenarios, such as at church or with my family, but never a complete stranger, through a drive-thru, while holding my hand.

I didn’t know what to do, so I mumbled something along the lines of “uh, yeah, you too” as she drove away.

When I studied abroad two summers ago, I frequented a coffeeshop in London that specialized in latte art. Beautiful pieces of artwork were in each cup I received, from a simple heart, to the picture of a rabbit one day. I always wondered how someone made these creations, and then I found this video.

One of my cousins, a teacher in a nearby town, asked what I was doing with myself. I told him how school was going and mentioned my work at the coffee shop.

“Oh, so you go to the snobby school and you drink snobby coffee? Let me guess, you don’t go to football games either, you’d rather wear a beret and play your bongos.”

This comment reminded me of a video I had seen about a year ago . . .

Is this the impression of all coffee shops? Maybe because I spend so much time inside my own and others that I don’t see the stigma that comes with drinking coffee.

What do you think?

I’m here, at local coffee shop which will remain anonymous, enjoying a large cup of joe and some blog coding for a class.

Since I happen to enjoy the music, I have left my headphones in my car. I’m reading all about Rep. Wilson’s silly outburst, and Gov. Sanford’s Argentinean mistress, when I hear the two teenage males sitting in the chairs next to me have the following conversation:

“Dude. That chick is wearing the same pants as you.”

“Which one?”

“The one with the hat and the tie-dye laptop.”

Seeing as I am probably the only person on this planet with a tie-dye laptop, I safely assumed they were talking about me.

“Haha, yeah dude, she totally does. So does that mean you shop in the chicks section or does she shop in the guys?”

Laughter ensues. I do not appreciate it. Not because of the questioning of where I shop, because honestly I could care less, but the fact that they are blatantly talking about me when I am a mere 15 feet away.

am becoming rather agitated. I still pretend to not hear a word they say, until one says to the other:

“You should ask her if she wants to trade pants, man.”

“[laughter] Only if I get to watch.”

At this point, I close my laptop and look directly into the boys’ eyes.

“I don’t think either of you could get into these pants.”

I open my laptop back up and continue to work as their eyes open widely, the blood drains from their faces, and they mumble apologies before deciding they should leave.

Boys and girls, please leave your egos, hormones, and loud voices at home before you enter the public and insult a complete stranger. You might just embarrass yourself.

These were not my ordinary after-church group like I had on Sunday afternoons. No, my Tuesday nighters liked to use profanity. A LOT of profanity.

I also received many more flirty comments than usual from the large number of male 20-somethings who come in that only order a cup of tap water.

Not only this, but my tips on Tuesdays are great. Like, really great. Usually in a night shift, I’m lucky to pull in $6 or $7. But on Tuesdays, oh no. I received as much as $25 one particularly busy evening.

Finally, I decided to ask one of my regular Tuesday night patrons what was going on at the church that pulls in so many people.

“It’s the Alcoholics Anonymous meeting! Biggest one in the county!”

I was, and still really am, in awe of the amount of support the Alcoholics Anonymous meeting gets in the area. After I found out that’s what gathered at the church on Tuesdays, I asked a couple of my morning regulars about it.

“Isn’t it great that they all get together like that?”

“It’s such a wonderful resource we have here.”

“I’m so proud they reach to each other for support.”

Working in such a religious community, and right next to a church no less, it is great to see such support from the community about the meetings.

“Hi, thank you for choosing ________, what can I get started for you?”

“Oh hi! How are you?”

Always a strange way to start an order, but it always makes me smile.

“I’m doing well, thank you. What can I get for you?”

“I’ll have a small mocha smoothie, decaf and sugar free please.”

I’d say she’s about 16 years old, with very long brown hair that she has swept up in a pony tail. She looks very girl-next-door, little to no make-up, a big smile on her face, and very young. She’s always happy and always grateful for her drink.

Now, she always orders a decaf, and the way my horrible mind works, is that I have the assumption that all people who order decaf beverages are either 1) 0ld; 2) Mormon; or 3) ordering for their children. She always orders it decaf and sugar free, so my rude self has always assumed that she is a rather conservative person who doesn’t care for caffeine.

Nothing is wrong with this of course, but after serving her coffee for a number of months now, it shocked me greatly last week when I opened the window to hear her gangster rap music blaring through her speakers. She was holding a CD case and reading the songs, and when I handed her the drink, she apologized for the loud music and turned it down. I made another assumption that maybe she was listening to a friend’s album or it was a prank, etc.

However, today she drove through the line again, listening to a different album of heavy gangster rap, in which she was singing along with. Everyone has the right to listen to whatever they want and sing whatever they want–I’m not going to argue this. But seeing the sweet, kind-hearted teenager who always smiles and greets me hello singing obscene profanities and racial slurs? Wow.

I always thought I was pretty against stereotypes, but when that made me step back and realize what I was thinking, it’s pretty clear that I am still a victim of stereotyping. It makes me curious what everyone must stereotype every day and yet don’t even realize it.

After a few minutes of peaceful reading about public administration, the bell in the front goes off, announcing we have a customer. I put my book down and walk to the front, smile on my face, prepared for any drink questions my walk-in may have.

A woman, in her late 20′s or early 30′s walks over to the counter very briskly with a slight frown on her face. She seems on a mission. Her coiffed hair and business suit imply she may have just gotten off work or is on a dinner break. She puts her purse on the counter as I smile and ask “Hi, what can I get started for you?”

In an irritated voice, she says “Do you have tomatoes?”

I look at her blankly and say “What?”

“I said, do you have tomatoes?”

“No. We don’t carry tomatoes. We only have pastries, some sandwiches, and coffee.”

She stares at me like, what kind of establishment doesn’t have tomatoes? then says “Nevermind then.” She picks up her purse from the counter and walks out.

In my time as a barista, heck, in my time as a human, I cannot remember ever going to a coffee shop and finding tomatoes on sale next to the bags of roasted coffee beans. Maybe it’s just me, but the flavor combination seems a bit off.

With unwashed hair, make-up from yesterday and a yawn, I began brewing the coffee. After three or four customers, a woman comes through my line ordering a small sugar-free carmel latte with skim milk. Directly after her, a man in a large and noisy pickup orders a large black coffee and a newspaper.

When I reach the window with the woman, she greats me with a huge smile and asks before I can even say hello “How are you today?” I smiled back and replied “Oh, a little tired, but nothing coffee can’t fix!” We chatted while I rang up her drink. She was extremely pleasant and, not to mention, awake, at 5:45am, which, in my experience, NEVER happens.

After I ring up her drink, she says “If I may ask, what did the gentleman behind me order?” Taken back, I stumble the words as I say “Ummm a large coffee and a newspaper? Is something wrong?” And she says, “Oh no. Could I please pay for his order?”

I must have done a double take, or looked at her like “Who are you?” when she explains to me that after he had gotten in line, he quickly turned off his headlights so they would not shine in her rearview mirror. She was very appreciative of his act of kindness and wanted to thank him in a way only a drive-thru could accommodate.

After she drove away, the next car pulled up. He looked very tired, and already had his hand out the window with five-dollar bill. I quickly explained that the car ahead of him had paid for his order while I handed him his drink. He seemed to immediately brighten up. He thanked me graciously and drove away, while I still had a smile on my face.

Even though the act of kindness wasn’t necessarily towards me, that simple gesture of “thank you” put me in a great mood for the rest of my shift. People seriously underestimate the power of kindness.

*even though this commercial is for alcohol, it’s still got a great message.

Walking into the building, you are confronted by a huge counter full of delicious looking fruit tarts and pastries, along with a menu written in chalk. The baristas may give you the good ol’ up and down before you order your drink, but overall they are pretty nice. Just don’t ask for a sandwich or you will most definitely receive an eye-roll. The prices are fair, and most of the drinks are served in eclectic mugs that add to the appeal of the coffeeshop.

Inside, there are multiple couches and tables so one can spread out and chat with friends or study. It has a very open feel, with an upstairs that overlooks the rest of the coffee shop.  Indie music plays constantly, so if you are looking for some quiet study time, bring some headphones or avoid it completely. Personally, I enjoy their playlists of folk and bluesy progressive tunes. Most of the tables are relatively small, and the chairs not so comfortable if you are planning on spending most of your evening writing about the politics of sub-Saharan Africa, but the free WiFi definitely makes up for the butt-numbing. The paintings on the walls change frequently and in my own opinion, I would want to purchase many of them for my own living room.

The second level leads to an outdoor patio, complete with chairs, tables, trees, bushes, ashtrays, and the occasional rabbit. Although Caffeine Dreams is located in a relatively busy and traffic-heavy part of town, the back patio cuts out most of the noise and is a very nice alternative from the inside. If you want a table outside though, act fast. On nice days, they are hard to come by.

The coffee=YUM.  This is one of the few places in town where I find all of their roasts delicious. Free refills too? You simply can’t go wrong. The only complaint I have is the many times I have gone up for the refills and they are out of a particular blend, but if you let the baristas know, a new brew is going and you have a fresh cup in minutes.

Overall, Caffeine Dreams receives a 4.5 out of 5 stars in my book.

<<pictures coming soon>>