Soy Chai Latte
Soy Chai Latte
“Soy Chai Latte please”
I push the sugar jar along the table from one hand to the other like my own personal game of ping-pong. Every afternoon it’s the same story my like is a series of repetition, bouncing back and forth like the sugar jar. I wake up every morning, catch the old worn out 692 bus, school, lunch, period four and my soy chai latte at La Cantina. The same conversations I have every day. If any conversation at all. The same people, same teachers, same classes and. soy chai lattes.
Don’t get me wrong I love soy chai lattes but I want a change; maybe shake it up a little. Why don’t I want a milkshake? I’m sure if I were the kind of person who likes milkshakes I would feel some sense of acceptance and inclusion maybe even someone who would join me for a milkshake after period 4.
A tall lanky young waiter with green eyes and brown messy hair slowly walked over to my table concentrating on the seemly easy task of holding two hot drinks.
He must be a milkshake kind of person I can tell.
“Soy chai latte?”
“That’s me… thanks”
Yes, definitely a milkshake person.
I glanced over at my watch, five past four. I pulled out my worn out art diary and a pencil from my pocket and started to sketch contently as I sipped at my chai latte.
“May I sit here?”
I looked up to see the tall young waiter staring at me with a giant grin across his face, holding a vanilla milkshake.
“Go ahead”
He sat down directly across from me. I scanned the cafe casually to see if there were any empty tables I could escape to, but of course not.
“I don’t want to disturb you, I’m on break and we re super busy and there is no where I can drink my milkshake”
I gave him a small smile and focused back to my drawing. I could feel him looking at me like the feeling when you are alone and you know there is someone else in the room.
“I’m Alex,” he announced.
Sure, you are Alex the waiter who likes milkshakes. He pushed out is chair all of a
“Soy Chai Latte please”
I push the sugar jar along the table from one hand to the other like my own personal game of ping-pong. Every afternoon it’s the same story my like is a series of repetition, bouncing back and forth like the sugar jar. I wake up every morning, catch the old worn out 692 bus, school, lunch, period four and my soy chai latte at La Cantina. The same conversations I have every day. If any conversation at all. The same people, same teachers, same classes and. soy chai lattes.
Don’t get me wrong I love soy chai lattes but I want a change; maybe shake it up a little. Why don’t I want a milkshake? I’m sure if I were the kind of person who likes milkshakes I would feel some sense of acceptance and inclusion maybe even someone who would join me for a milkshake after period 4.
A tall lanky young waiter with green eyes and brown messy hair slowly walked over to my table concentrating on the seemly easy task of holding two hot drinks.
He must be a milkshake kind of person I can tell.
“Soy chai latte?”
“That’s me… thanks”
Yes, definitely a milkshake person.
I glanced over at my watch, five past four. I pulled out my worn out art diary and a pencil from my pocket and started to sketch contently as I sipped at my chai latte.
“May I sit here?”
I looked up to see the tall young waiter staring at me with a giant grin across his face, holding a vanilla milkshake.
“Go ahead”
He sat down directly across from me. I scanned the cafe casually to see if there were any empty tables I could escape to, but of course not.
“I don’t want to disturb you, I’m on break and we re super busy and there is no where I can drink my milkshake”
I gave him a small smile and focused back to my drawing. I could feel him looking at me like the feeling when you are alone and you know there is someone else in the room.
“I’m Alex,” he announced.
Sure, you are Alex the waiter who likes milkshakes. He pushed out is chair all of a