A Cold Fall Night

Busy night at the Coffee Shop. Lots of people. Little to no sitting room. Very little silence. It is an even colder night than last time and so more people have taken refuge in the holiday decorated shop for warmth in the form of heat and a hot beverage.  Most of the conversation is centered around the tall tables and their fireplace. The tables are filled with students who are studying. This is also the case with some of the recliners along the windows. A couple of them have patrons just using the WiFi. It is hard to tell who is studying and who is just surfing the internet. It could be both.

One group of four looks like they may be preparing for a presentation of some sort. The screen of one of their laptops has a page with the word “domestication” in the title. A group of three next to them may be preparing for a test. They have a printout of a PowerPoint presentation on the table before them.

At the far end of my table are two students with orange-red hair. One, a female student, is on her computer. The other, a male, is on his phone. I am not sure if they are together or not. I assume not since they are not talking and the female student has her headphones in her ears. However, that doesn’t mean very much here. They could be working separately. Another student, a blonde athlete, who is either married or engaged seems to be working on law homework. But she could also be an education major student as her textbook, which is right next to her computer, is titled The Law of High Education.

Next to the door, another student reads his textbook. It is a large hard cover book. One of the heavy kind. However, I cannot tell what the subject is. His hand is covering the spine of the book as he holds it.

One patron is wearing sandals. Are his feet cold? I know mine would be if I went around in flip-flops in this cold weather.

The patron by the door, the one with the heavy textbook, leaves. The door is slow to close, letting in all the cold air.

A young girl drags her mother, I assume she is her mother, she could be an aunt or family friend, to the bar so she does not have to get her hot chocolate alone. A moment later, the mom gets her drink, a mocha like mine. The little girl who looks like she may be a soccer player judging by the shorts she is wearing, seems to be waiting for something else. Another drink maybe?

Well, the two orange-red heads at the end of my table are not together. The female has just left. Though, they still could have come in together so she would not be alone and she now has to leave to finish something else.

The athlete gets a call from her “beau”. I am guessing her fiancée or husband. Still not sure which it is.

One of my classmates leaves. She saw me when she came in and recognized me. I wonder if she knows exactly what I am doing here. One of the group of four, the lone guy, moves to my table, needing to plug in his computer and the closest plug is under the table.

More people are leaving than staying now. The music is starting to rise in volume above the talking. The group of three take their leave as well.

At the bar, a student eats frozen yogurt. The cold must not bother him like it does the rest of us.

More patrons enter the shop, looking for warmth before braving the cold again. A line reaches the door. An older looking woman walks by. She is wrapped in a faux fur jacket, a testament to the cold. A cold I must brave to get back to my truck.