First Day Jitters
Based on a true story
The cool air of the moon still lingered through the morning as my eyes opened to the light. I pulled the covers over my face in hopes of returning to the hours of least expectation, recreating the darkness to hide from the affliction of my responsibilities. To no avail, the alarm rang into my ears and shook me out of bed. I dragged my body to the edge of the mattress, ripping the blankets from my sheltered skin, to embrace the sting of the unforgiving breeze. The crisp cold greeted the tip of my nose as it leaked in through the cracked window. It was the only way I could ease my bones into sleeping, but it always became somewhat of a rude awakening. I stumbled over, collecting what was left of the joint from the night before, and pushed the window closed.
First day jitters were usually enough motivation to start my day, but there was nothing exciting about an 8am anthropology class. Surprisingly, I had gotten myself out of the house early enough to stop for a coffee. Iced mocha latte, cream, no sugar. I thought it was appropriate to treat myself while enduring a lecture hall full of students who weren't just trying to prove they were doing something with their life. I was sure they all had a passion they were chasing, and then there was me. “Hey! What can I get for you this morning?” A new life would be great, I thought, but still I greeted her with a smile, “Hey, can I have a medium Iced mocha latte, cream, without sugar please.” She was my favorite here, but the eye contact always felt more intimate than I intended. I could never tell if the energy was coming from me or from her. Either way, she made a damn good latte.
After paying, I made my way over to the pick-up window, standing in a group with 2 other women. They were lost in the screens of their phones, not that I was one to make smalltalk with strangers, but I always preferred to observe my surroundings. People watching was my favorite pastime, even if I didn’t necessarily want to interact with them. Scrolling through the morning updates on facebook, I assumed soccer mom from her attire and her app of choice. The other woman had more of an edge; blazer, white blouse, pencil skirt. Her hair was pinned into the perfect ponytail, that would’ve been considered my accomplishment for the day, but I assumed she had bigger plans. The only thing that was missing was a mysterious briefcase filled with confidential information.
“Iced mocha latte” the man behind the counter shouted towards us. I reached for my drink and as I turned to leave, she stopped me in my tracks. “Oh, I believe that one’s mine.” she laughed in between her words to ensure she wasn’t as intimidating as she was dressed. I looked down to read the label: 2 creams, 2 sugars. “Wow, my bad. I promise I was not trying to steal from you.” I said it jokingly, but I couldn’t tell if it was my awkwardness or insecurity that made me defensive around people who appeared well off. Nonetheless, We laughed it off. “Don’t worry about it, it’s still early. Clearly we haven’t had our coffee yet.” she said reassuringly, moments before disaster. As I extended my gangly arm to hand her the coffee, I was dumbstruck by the amount of iced mocha latte that was splattered across her neatly tucked, no longer pure white blouse. We both stood there in a puddle of my shame as I contemplated why I left early this morning. I could just be leaving the house now, I thought. Not having a woman staring at me because I ruined her morning, her outfit, and least importantly, her coffee. “I am so sorry. Oh, my god! I am so sorry.” I couldn’t force anything out of my mouth but apologies. Her eyes weren’t infuriated, wide in shock, but not angry. She slowly began to laugh. “I have to go.” she said as she placed the remains of her drink on the counter. “Are you sure I can’t buy you another coffee or you could take mine?” Without another word, she pulled a bundle of napkins out from their container and walked out the door. “Iced mocha latte” the man shouted from behind the counter, “Yeah, that's me. Do you think you could grab a mop? There may have been an incident.” I said with my infamous awkward smile and a slight nervous giggle.
I was back in the safety of my car where I could fully digest the embarrassment of my actions. It was certainly the adrenaline rush I needed to kickstart my day. I tightly gripped the wheel, trying to stabilize my hands from their shaking. The voice of Alan Watts always put me at ease, “The Way of Waking up” was one of my all time favorite lectures. Ironically, I was listening to a lecture I loved, for free, while driving to one I hated, but was paying for. I pulled in and prepared my bag. Notebooks and pencils, I wasn’t a fan of having to type my notes. I hadn’t even touched my coffee. I wasn’t sure I needed the caffeine, but I brought it with me anyways.
A few minutes late was normally what I considered to be right on time, but I had 15 minutes to spare. I walked in with pride knowing I’d have my choice between the prime seats. Close to the front, but not first row; not too far left or right, but not dead center. All to ensure I didn’t draw too much attention. As I calculated my placement in the empty auditorium, a voice echoed from the back of the room, “Good morning!” I whipped my head toward the entrance and there she stood, briefcase in hand.
No. Fucking. Way.
Closed blazer to cover the coffee stain that you could still see splattered on the edges of her collar. I felt the blood drain from my limbs as it rushed into my abdomen; I almost dropped my coffee. The color drained from her face as she had the same realization. I couldn’t tell if it was a blessing or a curse that I had made a memorable first impression. Time would tell.
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Comments (11)
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