Can I Get a Name For The Cup?

We were next in line at Starbucks, waiting patiently for our turn — we could already imagine the first sips of the delicious brew we would soon be enjoying. The baristas were in a jovial mood, smiling and joking with customers and each other while they keyed in orders, took cash, and made lattes.

The young man at the cash asked my husband for a name for his cup — the usual practice at Starbucks. “Of course”, said my hubby, “it’s Bruce”. The barista cajoled “Would you mind if I wrote “Bruce Wayne?” This started a lighthearted conversation about Bruce Wayne, Batman, Robin and comic book heroes in  general. He, then, turned to my daughter and asked for her name. His eyes widened in alarm as she uttered ” Brynne”  (for some reason, her name quite often strikes fear in people’s hearts) but quick as a wink he started to write and declared, “Batman, it is!” Of course, after that, we had to say that my name was Catwoman!

Laughing, we paid our bill and moved to the counter to await our drinks.

Soon, our cups arrived at the bar, and a young lady, with a quizzical look on her face,  called out “I have an Americano for Bruce Wayne”.  Her look turned to amusement as she announced Batman’s drink up next and laughed out loud when Catwoman’s coffee appeared. She turned to the cashier and gave him a big grin and a thumbs up for his name game.

Nice to see people having fun at work!

Coffee Cups


Kaffeeklatsch on the 640

MP900386070I’ve become part of a new group. I call it a Kaffeeklatsch — not that there is coffee, but there definitely is conversation, lots of it and  laughter and a bevy of pleasant, friendly women.

My invitation to this group came about with a casual chat at the desolate transit stop (route 640) where I catch my bus home at the end of my work day.  At that time, the stop was right on the edge of a busy, industrial trucking route — and I mean, right on the shoulder of the pavement! There was no shelter, no proper platform, just a couple of tatty, plastic chairs on the side of the highway under a light standard (which didn’t even have a functioning bulb – but did have a bus stop sign affixed to it.)

That day, as I reached  the huddled group of commuters, out of breath from running wildly to ensure that I caught the bus, I muttered to a woman standing there that I felt as if, one day, I might become roadkill at this so-called “bus stop”.  She chuckled and told me about a co-worker who had started wearing a reflective safety vest whenever she had to take this bus, as a few times, the driver had not seen her waiting there on dim, winter days and had driven right past her, leaving her stranded. I declared, that a vest like that was just what I needed.

A few days later, Isabelle, my fellow traveler, invited me to sit beside her, as I climbed on board the bus. Then, she presented me with a bright, yellow and orange safety vest! And suddenly, I was a bonafide member of the  “640 Kaffeeklatsch”.

The group is fluid, sometimes only Isabelle and I are present — though, usually there are about five “core” members. There are fringe members, too, who are accepted into the fold, whenever they ride the bus – people who only take transit sporadically, but are immediately welcomed by a volley of greetings and inviting smiles.

The 640 Kaffeeklatsch is boisterous and fun — the conversation lively and the members are kind, friendly, warm and protective of each other. In fact, the 4pm 640 route is coveted by transit drivers because of our group — we appreciate our drivers and we show it in many small ways — ways that sometimes include chocolate! Our Kaffeeklatsch is renown for its camaraderie, sociability and generosity.

It feels good to belong.

Thank you, Isabelle, Tara, Kerry, Lorraine and Dinna! You make the after-work bus trip so pleasant — it’s no wonder that you are well-liked and respected by bus drivers and passengers alike. I am grateful to be a part of your group!