The Atmosphere of a Coffee Shop

By Nathan Mitchell

The aroma of coffee wafts out of the open door of 1409 Pacific avenue.

The Peet’s Coffee and Tea is like many other coffeehouses in downtown Santa Cruz, an environment rich in activity, sounds and of course coffee.

From behind the counter, baristas brew, foam, swirl and dust a stream of drinks. Beat the used espresso grounds into a bin, grind more, and repeat.

The volume of conversations swells and crests, and when it ebbs it reveals a Handel violin sonatas or a Mozart symphony.

I sit down with my coffee, a half-caff, and my companion soon joins me with her frothy, lime-green vanilla matcha green tea latte. She pulls a highlighted book out of her bag and settles into her latte.

To my right, a man in red flannel with a full and unkempt beard leafs through engineering lab reports from the nearby university, leaving each page strewn with pencil marks. On one he angrily circles a section. “PARENTHESES!” he scrawls, and garnishes his remark with two more exclamation points.

The grader pulls another report from a pile of papers. “Lab: Measuring Temperature Change Using Thermistors,” its cover page reads. He proceeds to sprinkle its pages with comments.

Two women to my right share pictures of their children. One is resplendent in a hooded sleeveless faux-fur coat; the other is wearing a red knit sweater, stone-washed denim jeans, and faded red cowboy boots.

“He looks nice! He’d do well in sales,” says the cloaked woman.

“That’s what he does, sales,” says the other.

Two young women sit nearby and quickly unwrap their half-sized cupcakes. They both take a bite and nod with approval. They then compare iPhone cases and gossip about their friends.

A mother and her son sit at a small table, she with an iced coffee, he with a carton of organic chocolate milk. She places an iPhone between them and a competitive yet good-natured game of Connect 4 ensues.

“How are we today Margaret?” the barista asks, over the hum of conversations.

“Oh peachy,” responds the woman with greying hair, oatmeal cardigan and “O Organics” tote bag before ordering her latte.

The two young women leave. Margret takes their table.

B-, concludes the man in red flannel. He sighs and picks out another from the stack.