Julian the Parrot immediately greets me with a loud “Hello” when I walk in the door. He does this with everyone he recognizes. Then he whistles in that same catcall kind of way that construction workers sometimes throw my way. He saves that for the ladies. Clever, huh?
I head for my table on the covered patio at the rear where I see several other regulars having their morning cup of java. They smile, wave, say hi, or raise their mug in a welcome gesture. My table sits at the edge where I can watch the shrimp and oyster boats as they begin their morning ritual. Seagulls are swooping about, hoping there will be a morsel or two for them this fine day. Two brown pelicans float patiently in the water for the same reason. A great blue heron seems to lord over them with his haughty expression. He knows he can beat them with his large wings and aggressive behavior. He usually does, too.
Cindy brings me a large brown mug of her fine coffee along with cream and sugar. She knows I doctor mine extensively. She teases me with, “You think this is enough sugar, Honey?” She has filled the container to the brim.
“I’m not sure, Cindy, let me work on this bucket and I’ll let you know if I need more,” I joke back.
The oyster shells crunch softly when she turns to pour refills for the gang across the patio. They are in great spirit today, telling jokes and bantering with Cindy while she empties the hot steaming dark brown brew into their cups. Cindy makes the finest coffee around. I’ve tried to replicate it at home but it’s just not the same.
I’ve decided it’s not the way she makes the coffee, or even the type of coffee she uses. The atmosphere of her coffee house by the bay is what keeps me coming back. Oyster shells blanket the floor. A menagerie of multi-colored plastic chairs and tables rest atop the shells. It’s not uncommon to see someone shimmy and shake the table or wriggle around in their chair to nestle in those shells so there’s no wobble. Brightly patterned napkins and place mats are brought freshly cleaned with each mug of coffee. It’s homey, comfortable and welcoming each and every time you enter those doors.
The aromatic smell of Cindy’s coffee permeates the air immediately upon crossing the threshold of her establishment. She remembers our names and is ever ready to lend an ear for your news, be it good or bad. Cindy is an older woman, probably around 65. But I could be wrong about that. She has more energy than two twenty year olds. Gives me hope.
Today she has donned her famous red “kitchen bitch” apron and several of the gentlemen are teasing her and asking if she’ll be their kitchen woman. She laughs and says, “Maybe.” Clever, huh? She keeps them coming back for more. I admire her very much.
I finish my usual one cup of coffee, leave a couple bucks on the table, and pick up my scribble notebook. Cindy smiles softly and says, “See you tomorrow, Honey.” And so she will, so she will.
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