rshort1202

I am walking around downtown, and there seems to be an event going on. I walk into a smaller coffee shop, right behind a group of three girls about my age. They sort of spilt up in the line, so that I am in front of one of them. She is talking sort of excitedly about how she is going to get something with eight shots, as if her caffeine tolerance is just really high. I think one of the others orders and then they try to get me to go. I politely decline, asking if they’re sure, since I thought they got here first. They coax me into going, so I step up to the wooden counter. The barista is kind and friendly, with dirty blond/brown hair and tan skin; she seems familiar from somewhere. I ask for an iced Americano with five shots instead of the four I think it usually comes with. She says she’s already got one started, holding out a larger sized cup that’s full, too full for my preference, of ice. When the finished drink comes out, I take it over to a wooden bench along the wall opposite the building’s front wall and window. The evening light shines golden, drenching the place in a peaceful, languid haze. There are a few others sitting around, quietly keeping to themselves. There is a very laid back vibe, either caused by or enhanced by the lighting. I notice the girl who wanted eight shots is seated to my left, sitting lengthwise with the bench, her knees bent and feet up. She is wearing shorter black athletic shorts and is on her phone. She has two smaller bags on the bench, one placed on top of the other. They start to tilt and then the top one completely falls off, taking the other partially with it. I try but fail to get her attention. Now, I consider trying to talk to her or the other two also, but I don’t really want to bother them, as they don’t need anyone to talk to. I’m not sure what I’m going to do now, except maybe sit here for a while.