A Tiny Espresso Cup

I consider myself an extrovert. But I moved to a new city in the era of social distancing, after months of becoming more content with a quieter life. I was in a relatively new relationship, focusing most of my social energy on that. Then Mike and I got engaged, planned a wedding, and married—all within a year of my move to Colorado.

Normally I would be eager to meet loads of new people in a new place. But the circumstances lent themselves to less socialization outside of my immediate circles. 

I had become quite accustomed to mobile grocery orders and curbside pickup for the sake of convenience. I was content using my library app to check out digital books, negating the need to step foot in a library building. 

Even once I started frequenting coffee shops again, I got into the habit of ordering from the app while inside my car. I would pick up my caffeinated beverage at the counter and sit down at a table to work (next to other non-social workers) without ever needing to speak to a live person.

How different life is from just a few short years ago when I lived in a small city with only a handful of coffee shops. I enjoyed chatting with the baristas. I frequently bumped into friends and saw the same remote workers week after week.

The world has changed, and so have I. I didn’t think much of it until an encounter one afternoon at Starbucks.

It was Friday after lunch. My motivation was waning. But I still had a few tasks to finish for work before I could call it “the weekend.”

I needed to run a quick errand, so I took my laptop with me and stopped at the green-and-white mermaid-branded coffee joint for a change of scenery. I did my typical routine of ordering in the car and successfully avoided unnecessary contact with strangers. 

I’m not a “regular coffee order” type of person. This particular day I decided on an espresso con panna (two shots of espresso with a dollop of cream)--because I like my drink to taste like coffee and prefer it to cost less than a fast-food sandwich.

If you’ve ever ordered a double shot of espresso, you’ll know it’s not very much liquid. Real coffee shops have tiny cups for this sort of order…but, wouldn’t you know, Starbucks also has a smaller-than-tall cup. And that’s what my coffee of the day came in.

As I was seated at a table focused on my work, a tiny disposable cup at my side, a pleasant, older gentleman came up to me and asked with curiosity what I had ordered in a cup so small. After explaining it to him, he responded, “I’ll have to try that!” And he walked away. 

About 45 minutes later, the man returned to my table to report that he had taken my recommendation and had enjoyed the tiny beverage. We exchanged a few pleasantries, and he left.

I couldn’t help but appreciate that man and his kindness. He wasn’t overbearing. He simply asked me about the tiny cup that must have stood out in a sea of grandes and veintes. And he reported back to me with joy. Even as I write it, it makes me smile. 

This encounter made me think about the habits I’ve formed. I’ve become overly accustomed to avoiding strangers, and the world today has made that entirely too possible. 

I may not be in a town where everyone knows your name, but I’ve resolved to be a little more friendly at the coffee shops I frequent or the stores where I shop. Even if I only see the person on the other side of the counter one time in my life, that is one time that I have to show a little kindness and perhaps brighten someone’s day with an espresso con panna.