Americano Type
- May 24, 2017
- 2 min read
I walk into a small cafe called Foo's, I'm here waiting for my small writing club to show up. I'm wearing my light brown, sun-kissed hair, in a low ponytail with strands hanging loose for a more laid back look, (even thought it took me 30 minutes to get the right proportions of hair situated) a cream collared shirt, mind the wrinkles, tucked into my light-wash ripped at the knee boyfriend jeans which were held up by a thick banded, black leather belt. On my feet I wore felt material, black pointed toe flats. It didn't take me that long to know what I wanted; most people go to Foo's for their amazing smoothies and ice cream, I go there for their infamous Americano's. For those who don't know coffee, an Americano is espresso with hot water added. I walk up to the register where I am greeted by an excited middle aged man. "Hey how's it goin?" "Great! Now what can I get you sweetie?" My lips form into a soft smile and I glance at the menu, making sure they didn't take what i wanted off. "I'll take a 16 oz. Americano, please." "Really? Not ice cream?" I chuckle while pulling out a five from my brown strapped, over the shoulder purse, "I'm more of a coffee person." "Hm. I wouldn't take you as an Americano type of girl." "Yeah? What would you think I would order?" "Anything but that." I didn't know you could classify people as coffee types. "Yeah, I'm not into sipping sugar and flavored syrup through a straw. " He laughs and rings my order. While he's doing this, I start thinking. I am just so confused, is it something I'm wearing? I thought I looked pretty straightforward for my "type". I'm not wearing a pink headband and a tutu. I give him my bill and put the remaining money in the tip jar. He calls my order and tells me to be careful; it's hot. I think about going to bathroom and double checking to make sure I'm not wearing a sign on my forehead that says "I'm 5 years old". I turn around and am greeted by a girl I'm not familiar with; she'll be new to my school this fall. "Hey, are you here for the writing club?" She seems sweet, sort of timid. "I am. Hi, I'm Kali. Do I by any chance have anything on me that would tell someone to treat me like a toddler?" She laughs. "No", we walk to the back of Foo's where there are worn down couches and tables for people to hang out. "What's your name?" "I'm Carolyn. I'll be new next year. You probably knew that. By the way, I love your outfit. I can tell you're a writer." "Oh my goodness, thanks so much! That's like the best compliment I've ever received." We continued to talk until the rest of the group arrived and we all bonded over the love we all hold in our hearts for writing.
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