The Nice Thing About Strangers
Creative Non-Fiction Short Stories. :) Travel, Oldsters, Love, and Compassion.
Airport Starbucks: No, I am not an Inspector
The people at Starbucks always spell my name Peych (or Peç), so I answer to it. At the Ataturk airport Starbucks, a barista with very dark, but well-groomed eyebrows calls, “Black coffee Joe, Black coffee Joe,” and I smirk to myself as I do so often. I have learned to keep company with myself, to enjoy openly the details that have caught my attention.
Someone asks a barista the time and he answers, “Ten t-w-en-ty fife.” Turkish pronounces every letter (let’s not get into the soft g right now), so it isn’t a tw, but a t-w that he shares. I think I will miss these things when I go home.
A customer at the other end of the counter has been watching me in my observations. I noticed him watching. He sees me with my notebook and asks if I am writing a story about the Starbucks–and if he will be included. I say, “No, not you, but him,”–the employee who said t-w-en-ty and who is seated between the man and I on his break, now with a mouthful of a sandwich and no idea what we are saying. The snubbed man departs, I shrug at t-w-en-ty and wish him a nice day at work.
–Istanbul, Turkey.
P.S. A friend later relayed that all the employees that day thought that I was from corporate. It’s always rather flattering to be considered a spy. No, he had to explain, she’s just a writer.
5 comments on “Airport Starbucks: No, I am not an Inspector”
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The Nice Thing About Strangers 
…mmm…coffee…
Mmm, before a long flight, even better. 🙂
yes 🙂
ahh, so very warm:) Thank dearly for the warm, warm barista and Turkey coziness Paige! Love the snow flakes for this time of year and that coffee cup rocks the mood!
Keith
Thank you, Keith! I figured that any cup with smileys and hearts was one I could accept with glee. 🙂
Happy New Year–
Paige