It’s All in the Pull

“Good communication is just as stimulating as black coffee, and just as hard to sleep after.”

—Anne Morrow Lindbergh

There were few things more alluring than a warm cup of coffee in the fall when the air turned cool and the leaves turned to fiery colors. She usually insisted that coffee was a year-round delight since she was admittedly rather obsessed with the proper preparation of espresso-based drinks. As they walked into the cafe, the smell of freshly-roasted coffee beans hit her instantaneously.

“This place looks nice,” her partner said.

“It does,” she admitted.

She eyed the menu of the coffee shop, feeling deeply apprehensive. She didn’t like the town her partner of five years wanted to move to. It might sound like a ridiculous reason to dislike a town, but it was altogether too nice. It was so very nice that all of the apartments were as egregiously overpriced as the coffee menu.

The menu was beautifully scripted with white paint onto a rustic wooden board, but the options were extremely standard. That could mean that it was quintessentially good coffee, or it was just generic and passionless. She eyed the bottles of flavored syrups lined up on the shelf beside the espresso machine and felt her hopes drop like a spilled cup of coffee.

“I wish they had protein shakes with espresso,” her partner said thoughtfully. “I should open up my protein coffee place in this town someday.”

She stifled a smile. “Well, all the fancy rich people around here would probably buy that a lot.”

The barista, an older fellow with thinning hair and a long apron covering his clothes, sauntered over to the counter. Her decision making time was almost up. She was determined to judge the quality of their espresso preparation, so she didn’t want to select anything that would mask the flavor too substantially.

She glanced over at her partner, but he had the contemplative expression of someone far from making a decision. One might have expected a nearly six-foot-tall young man, whose build readily advertised that he was a bodybuilder to be a decisive, confident person. However, her partner was more the quiet and thoughtful sort. She’d lived with him long enough to know with one glance that he had no idea what he wanted yet.

“What can I get for you?” the barista asked.

“Hello,” she said pleasantly, invoking her polite, professional voice, “I’ll have a cappuccino, please.”

Photo Courtesy of Leszekglasner

“Alright,” he said, turning back to the espresso machine quickly.

She was a bit surprised that he didn’t ask her partner for his order, but didn’t say anything.

The barista definitely seemed like the no-nonsense type, which frankly, she was fine with. She found generic small talk incredibly exhausting and it didn’t bother her at all when others abandoned the pretense for it.

“Do you know what you want?” she asked her partner quietly.

“Mmm. Something sweet,” he said.

“It looks like they use syrups,” she said, lowering her voice even further. “Our current local shop is a lot more creative with how they flavor things, you know.”

He shrugged. “Let’s see if it’s good here. The gyms around here look great, so the coffee should be too.”

She didn’t quite follow that logic and cast him an unconvinced look. This was the second coffee shop they were trying in this town. The first time they visited, it was to release a mouse they’d caught in a state park. She wasn’t sure of the legality of such an action, so she wasn’t over advertising that fact. They’d ventured into the downtown to get lunch afterward and her partner had fallen head over heels for the ritzy storefronts and fancy-looking apartment buildings. They’d gotten coffee, but the first shop burned the espresso.

On this second visit, while she was highly melancholy about visiting the expensive apartment buildings and their painstakingly manicured lawns, the coffee provided some hope of salvation. The apartments were pricey and it would be a budget stretch for them, but some of the older buildings were doable.

Perhaps the overpriced town could redeem itself slightly if the coffee and food proved itself to be remarkable. The scent of freshly ground coffee wafted over the counter, enticing her senses despite her skepticism.

The barista finished her cappuccino and made his way back over to the counter.

His technique seemed fine; he pulled the shot with confidence.

She was almost disappointed to admit that she couldn’t fault anything about the coffee just yet.

“Anything else?” the barista asked.

Now put on the spot, her partner had no choice but to make a decision. She glanced over at him and watched as his eyes fell upon the little chalkboard sign perched on the cafe counter. It was a seasonal menu, adorned with a poorly drawn fall leaf in white chalk.

“Oh, hmm,” her partner said, leaning closer as he peered at the sign. “Fall flavors…can I get the pumpkin spice?”

She delicately took her classic, simple cappuccino off of the counter. The barista stared at the tall, muscular young man asking for the dreaded PSL of legend. She realized the irony of it; as a petite young woman, she looked much more the stereotype of getting a sugary, syrupy pumpkin spice latte. One would expect such an order from her before they anticipated it from a protein-swilling bodybuilder.

“On the specials?” the barista asked.

“Yeah, the latte?”

“You want a pumpkin spice latte?” the barista questioned, a hint of disbelief evident in the way he arched a bushy eyebrow.

“Yup,” her partner said cheerily.

The barista grunted an affirmative and turned back to the espresso machine. She smirked as her partner eagerly awaited his syrupy sweet drink. She took a hesitant sip of her simple coffee. It was still a little too hot, but with reluctance, she conceded that the cappuccino was good. The espresso wasn’t burnt at all.

“So how is it?” her partner asked.

“Maybe it’s not so bad here,” she admitted, taking another sip.

“Thought so,” her partner said, grinning as the barista poured pumpkin spice syrup into his cup.

~

Author's Note: This short story was written for the prompt “set your story in a coffee shop that’s just introduced a new line of autumnal drinks.”

It may or may not be based on a true story—I think my partner would rather that I keep this one ambiguous. It’s a simple, silly story, but when I saw the prompt, I just had to write it.