I went into a coffeeshop today.
It was so weird. My first time on the other side of the register in a while, knowing that I was a stranger… that the girl behind the counter wasn’t going to be able to make a “Jen’s Hot Chocolate” or a chai quite like I knew it.
It felt weird not knowing where they kept the straws, having to look at a menu to figure out what to say if I wanted a vanilla latte, not knowing why their coffee sizes were named things like “short” and “grande” instead of “small” and “medium”.
It felt strange, smelling the familiar scent of ground espresso and fresh coffee in the air without seeing the equally familiar splashes of orange and pink on the walls.
I didn’t realize just how much I missed my old job until I set foot into this place.
I’m sure it’s a great coffeeshop, in fact I’m positive it is, judging from the sheer amount of people sitting down with their friends and their laptops and their books, enjoying the atmosphere. But it’s not the same. It’s not as warm, as friendly, as approachable. Even though it’s a small business, one with just a few stores, it has a polished feel to it. A slick, marketed feel to it.
Maybe I’m just being nostalgic, but it’s no Thanks a Latte.
