“What are you doing here, kid?” “I was cleaning up and lost track of time.” “You sure as hell did. Do you know what time it is?” I looked ...t my cell phone. “10:00.” “Damn right! Now, how are you getting home? Do your parents know you’re here?” “My parents are out of town, so I was going to walk.” He paused for a moment and then set his stuff down. “Look, I’ll take you home.” He hesitated. “But, you got to do something for me.” As he walked towards me, I backed up. I kept backing up until I was. He liked that she was a regular. It provided some familiarity and attachment in otherwise very transient job. Thanks to the regulars there were things baristas could look forward to or complain about. He also liked that all of them were slightly mysterious, same way as he seemed to recognise and know her, but knew nothing about her. He didn't know her name nor who she was. All he knew were her habits, what she drank, where she sat, what she read. And it was not sticking to those habits that. More

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