Page 46 of Glass Half Full
She raises her eyebrows. “Dangerous?”
“Sometimes we would fuel ourselves through really busy nights with those little packs of instant coffee. They were really nasty and only used in emergencies, but once we learned there was gourmet shit out front, things got kind of crazy. We actually had a special jar for the ‘espresso fund’ that we’d all put a portion of our tips towards, and if you did not pay up, you were shunned.”
Renee shakes her head, laughing. “Sounds intense.”
“Oh, it was. Monroe had to stage an intervention after people’s hands started shaking so bad that at least one person was burning themselves every night.”
“Yeah, right.”
“I’m not kidding! I told you it was a dangerous time. It’s faded now, but I used to have the scar to prove it.”
Her drink arrives, and we’re once again left facing the question of where to sit.
“Okay, time’s up,” she announces. “If you were me, where would you want us to sit?”
“If I was you, I’d want to sit at the table where you’d get the best view of me.”
“Ha ha. And which table would that be?”
“How about the corner one near the window with all those pillows on the benches?”
She nods and leads the way over. We each take a side of the corner bench, and I notice her grinning into her latte as she takes her first sip.
“What?” I demand. “It’s the table, isn’t it? You hate it.”
She shakes her head. “It’s my favourite one at this place. I always sit here.”
It shouldn’t feel so significant. It’s a goddamn table, and possibly the nicest one in the room. I’m sure it’s many people’s favourite, but I still swell with the pride of getting it right.
“This is a good table. I’ll give you that. It’s a really nice place all around. The only thing wrong is their soundtrack.”
Her face scrunches up as she strains to hear the music playing under all the conversation and bustle in the room.
“What’s wrong with their soundtrack?”
“It’s not the right mood.”
She wiggles her fingers mysteriously as she croons, “The moooood?”
“Yeah, the moooood.” I copy her gesture. “It’s wrong. It doesn’t fit. Music is the most mood setting medium there is. It can make or break the atmosphere of an entire business. That’s why I put so much work into what we play at Taverne Toulouse. Knowing which songs go together, how to arrange them so they flow into one another, getting the commentary just right—”
“The commentary?” Renee interrupts. “For your kitchen radio shows, right?”
“Hey.” I hold up a finger. “My kitchen radio shows are legendary.”
She laughs before nodding a few times. “I know. They’re great. Really. Everyone loves them. The whole night feels off when you don’t do them.”
The compliment hits me like the beginnings of a buzz. I knew people were at least entertained by my idiocy, but to know it’s having the effect I want, that it’s making people’s shifts better and bringing them together as a team—and to hear that from Renee—sort of makes my chest feel tight.
“That’s good to hear.”
I take a sip of my coffee and decide it needs a few minutes to cool. Renee blows on her latte before gulping more down.
“How’s the chai?” I ask.
“It’s pretty good.”
“Cool. I, uh, I like your sweater.”
