My Experience in Starbucks

 September 17, 2014 (This is nonfiction)

            I am writing this because of the caffeine of the coffee I bought (which hinders my sleep) and the man who sold me the latte. Looking up at the man behind the cash register, I noticed that, for once, it wasn’t a stereotypical, college-aged, coffee shop employee. The person behind the counter was a man with long, white wavy hair that poked out from under his ocean-green Starbucks hat. His chin was full of white stubble and his eyes squinted behind his hipster glasses. When he spoke, he had the voice of a young man. If I had heard him on the phone, I would have never thought the voice had come from a man that looked this old.

            On this particular day, I was wearing my Moby Dick t-shirt. As the money was being downloaded to my Starbucks card, he asked me if I had read the book on my shirt. Coloring, I replied, “To my shame, this is the only book-shirt that I own that I have not read yet, but I do want to read it someday.” He replied that it wasn’t a shame at all. Pausing to punch in numbers, he continued our conversation. He explained that there was a section in Moby Dick that expressed the protagonists despairing attitude during April.  So it must be better to read it in April to be able to understand the character. “Back to the mundane!” he interrupted himself as he counted the change. Then he debated whether we would understand what the character felt, since we live in Louisiana.  Moby Dick was written in the New England states. Up there, April is a dreary time where slush abounds and spring hangs back. He reasoned that is why the protagonist is so depressed. “Back to the mundane!” he interrupted again. Then he asked if I had read Billy Budd, Sailor, in which I quickly asserted that I had.

As he talked on about Herman Melville, I quickly discerned a few things about his character. For one, he was quite knowledgeable, but quite distracted as well. Also, a couple of times, he stopped squinting and opened his eyes. They were an icy, crystal blue, and seemed starry. His manner of conversation was light, and I found what he was saying actually interesting, though some might find it boring. His whole aurora made me think of a sprite, or an elf, or some other-worldly creature. In fact, I am convinced that I had no “mundane” human handed me the receipt of my Starbucks drink.