After my solo drive I decided that I wanted to visit the local coffee shop down the street. It’s a cute little shop right on the corner of the busiest intersection in town. I had lived here all my life and yet I had never visited. Once I tried to convince my parents to take me for my birthday when I was a teen, but the idea of trying anything new isn’t in their interest.
Sometimes when we were at the intersection I would peer out through the passenger side window and try to see inside. They have outdoor seating with planters full of succulents bordering the edge.
I brought my mother along for the ride because she asked if I wanted her to come with the day before. I spent the night before excitedly showing her the menu, and telling her about the lemon crepes. Maybe secretly I didn’t want to go alone and I hoped maybe my enthusiasim would interest her enough to make her want to come with. Goal Acheived. It was a new place I had never driven to, and eventhough it was only down the street, I felt more comfortable at the idea of company. Company is nice, driving alone is well…lonely. And the parking lot is new territory because I had never been in their tiny parking lot that is situated by a very narrow alley. People go in and out like it’s a fast food joint for their coffee or their crepes.
Before we were out of the driveway I had accidently placed the car in reverse and the moment I took my foot off the break it started to inch back. No problem.
It’s a rookie mistake. My mother gasped in panic. Which made me uneasy. And I felt uncomfortable or more rushed than I had when I was alone. Maybe she was just uneasy herself because it was morning and the idea of me driving her someplace hadn’t had time to marinate yet.
I was going to attempt to cross the highway to make a left when a line of oncoming traffic came by. Hidden by the corner. I had inched forward but stayed put. It scares me sometimes the idea that if I stay or go, it can be a life or death situation. If I hadn’t double-checked oncoming traffic and went anyway, maybe I would have crashed into someone. It’s almost happened before in my days of early driving.
The road winds and twists, almost like a rollercoaster but the highway is 55mph. My mother shouted, “SLOW DOWN!”. I was going 45mph in a 55mph zone. Some would argue I’m going too slow. I struggle oftentimes to stay at the speed limit, something my instructor told me to work on. It made me wonder if she was right or just anxious. Maybe both. I will have to observe how she travels the winding road home next time I am a passenger. I notice driving can feel faster or slower depending on if you’re driving or if someone else is. So maybe it just felt faster for her.
She calms when we get into town where the road evens out and the speed limit is 30mph at lowest. I turn into the alleyway and make it into the parking lot. I had to adjust myself once because I was crooked in my parking space.
My mother decided to stay in the car with the AC blaring while I got out. She handed me a handful of ones and told me to get her a coffee also.
I realized when approaching the front door of the coffee shop that it was not a shop you could walk into. They had a little window up front where people were ordering. I stood awkwardly in line and looked at the menu. I had already planned everything out the day before but tried to look busy so hopefully no one would talk to me beyond necessary.
I planned the route, how to get there, the type of coffee I wanted, how much it cost, and even where the front door is situated precisely. All these steps to make my drive slightly less of a mental chore as a new driver. I even observed even down to the speed limit that is expected on the route I was taking.
The coffee shop is considered “mom-and-pop” type of establishment. The people are friendly and throw smiles around, the employees know the regulars. The service is slow but good.
The woman taking my order at the window looked to be in her 20’s with her blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail and covered(if I remember right). She was tall, very much so. And she was friendly. She had to lean forward and strain to hear me over the busy intersection, something she is probably used to.
I tried to use my ‘speaking voice’ as I like to call it. As someone who is always quiet and once earned a reward in class titled “quiet as a mouse,” I oftentimes had to find ways to strain my own voice which is soft in register in order to be heard. It’s often a complaint from my family that I’m too quiet. My mother has a loud and boisterous voice that feels sometimes a tad annoying when I’m not in the mood for her chattyness.
But that quiet voice of mine that my parents and aunt would complain about… it has become my calling, landing me a small position as a voiceover artist. I did not acheive my childhood dream of becoming a talented actress, at least not in the way I thought. Instead I became an actress of my own voice, finding ways to portray it a certain way to fit characters I was assigned to as a voiceactor. Even then, I don’t know if I would call myself talented. More so, I’m well-practiced.
Ordering was easy(somewhat). And then I awkwardly waited by the counter. My hand was clutching my wallet and I had to mentally remind myself to relax.
There were college-aged people sitting on one of the outdoor tables, relaxing and chatting away with their coffee and pastries.
I noticed one of the them was a man carrying his car keys that jingled when he walked. I noticed how adult he looked. And I wondered if maybe I looked the same. I still feel fourteen eventhough I’ve gone to college, and I got my license. Even if I carry car keys around or go places alone. I wonder if maybe I look similar anyways. Like a proper adult. Confident enough to order their own drinks, drive home on their own, and take care of themselves. Confident enough to dress however they want, and in my case, it was another dress. Same one as the day before. Red with white flowers, my hair tied back with a chiffon bow.
While waiting for the crepes and coffee, I also bought a sticker with the logo of the coffee shop. I thought it would be a nice token, a reminder of going to this place for the first time. My second time driving from home into town and then back.
There was an older woman with a pixie cut, grey hair, and tattoos that covered every inch of her body. She complimented my dress and told me how she wanted to wear dresses too. She said I look like I kept cool wearing the dress. And then said something else but I couldn’t make out what it was above the traffic. I just smiled. And then wondered why she chose to talk to me of all people.
There were others near me who probably looked more friendly or open to conversation. I oftentimes try to look occupied or like I’m not interested. As unavailable as possible. In terms of body language, I tried to situate myself facing the coffee shop building, away from others. In hopes that maybe people would avoid talking to me like the nice older lady had.
I have no idea where to look or where my eyes should go when standing around waiting for something in line in public. Where do I look? Where should I look? Am I staring too much at the wall? Time to switch to looking at the menu. And when I’ve been looking at the menu too long then I would look at the drivers and cars passing by. And that didn’t last long because a young girl who had very bad RBF(resting bitch face) was staring out the window like I had so many times before when passing the coffee shop. She looked angry. Maybe she wasn’t, but it made me look back at the menu.
And then I resumed my cycle of looking at the wall, the menu, occasionally at traffic. Over and over while waiting. Occasionally someone would think I was standing in line and tell me to go ahead, and then I realized maybe looking at the menu and standing so close to the counter made it seem like I was getting ready to order, so I moved away to stand by a table. And for some reason I felt too shy to try to sit down in the chair eventhough I eyed it.
My boyfriend says that I often look lost when we’re in the store together, and that’s why all the employees seem to flock to me to ask me, “Do you need anything?”
Or, “Have you found what you’re looking for?” I think when I try to look occupied, I look more focused or confused, like I’m looking for something. So maybe it makes it worse.
I am a nervous person. I find myself scrambling with my money at the checkout counter, oftentimes forgetting the amount I owe and having to ask again, or sweating profusely. I fumble with the coins or worry the cashier will notice that my palms are very sweaty when they hand me my change.
In this case I was also sweaty, but mostly because of the summer heat. By time I got my coffee I had to hurry back to the car because I realized I could not carry two cups of hot coffee, and a container of crepes by myself while juggling my wallet and keys. I had to make the decision of waiting and trying to carry everything, or running back to the car before my order of crepes was ready to deposit the coffee so my hands could be free.
My mother was waiting in the car and I had to knock on the window to get her attention. She unlocked the car and told me that she kept it locked because of “weird people”. Personally I did not see anyone weird, just my mother staring at people intently while she read one of her books that was probably reminiscent of a hallmark movie.
The crepes came last after another long wait, and they were disappointedly small, but I also didn’t mind. My first time ordering here, my first time coming to a place I really wanted to go to. The coffee was a Mexican mocha. A combination of spicy mexican hot chocolate combined with coffee and a hint of milk. Tasty. I didn’t try any until we got back home.
I asked my mother how my driving was later on and she said it was perfect. But yet the times she panicked crossed my mind and made me think otherwise. I felt as if I were getting whiplash. Either way, I figured I would just see how fast she goes around the corners, maybe get an idea of if I’m going too fast or not.
And of course, even if it is silly, I saved the cardboard cup holder that had the coffee shop logo on it(which I learned today is also called a Zarf) as a token along with my sticker.
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