Coffee

Awkward silence.

"Grrrwwwhherr," the sound of beans being crushed and ground into a fine powder interrupted the silence that hung between us, only slightly relieved by the folk indie music that every coffee shop seems to have in endless supply.

"Well...I thought it would be good. I haven't really talked with you much lately."

"Life has been busy, but I guess you would know that. It's not like we'd talk much anyways."

"It seems like something good to change."

More awkward silence.

"Americano with cream!" shouted the barista. Standing, he moseyed to the counter where he added some sugar and cinnamon before replacing the lid.

"You can't just get plain ol' coffee anymore, they always want to put syrup and sprinkles and a unicorn in it." He eased back into his chair and shifted the lid on his cup, "I remember when I was driving for Stiller, every morning I'd stop by the Texaco station and buy a cup of the thickest coffee slop you could find for a nickel."

"Yeah, that must've been nice. How long were you driving those log trucks for Stiller?"

"Well I started the summer after I graduated," he slipped into his story telling, "and I don't recall exactly when it was we moved to Takhon...that was down in Nevada yah know." He rambled on for the next hour, with just a nudge of encouragement here and an occasional question there.

"Well I need to get to work."

"I remember those days, it's been a while since I've had to worry about clocking in on time." With that I shook his hand, and we each walked to our own truck.

Driving back to the office, I stared at the bumper of the Porshe in front of me. He didn't seem like the driven, hard-handed man I remember as my first boss, he seemed more like who I hoped to be in a few years. That hindsight that was twenty-twenty, seeing the good and the bad, but not worry...just hoping that maybe he learned a few things in his time.