A Day In The Life: The Morning Ritual In A Coffee Shop

Every weekday morning before work I stop by a cafe in the Wall Street area before going into my office. It's a pleasant, clean, airy place that I enjoy and look forward to before going to my job.I always order the same thing – small coffee with milk (they've recently raised the price from $1.52 a cup to $1.63). I could, I suppose, vary my order (that is, getting a larger cup, or adding some croissants or muffins), but in order to make my transaction as simple and seamless as possible, I stick to my routine. The clerks and counter people know me so well, they sometimes get my order before I even say anything,I have loved coffee houses all my adult life -- they're a great place to relax, read a book or the newspaper, and people-watch.My morning coffee-joint is somewhat different since I'm pressed for time – I usually spend only 15 or 20 minutes or so there, which means my observations are brief and concentrated.Since I have patronized this cafe for so long, I see the same customers almost daily (other Wall Streeters following a similar routine as I).I never speak to anyone – indeed, everyone (the customers and employees) are complete strangers to me... and yet they're so familiar since I encounter them daily.Watching people, I wonder and speculate about who they are, what they do for a living, what their lives are like, and what they worry about?There is almost always this little old man sitting at the same table in the corner when I arrive. He has a bald head (covered by a baseball cap), a grey beard and he eats breakfast, while perusing the New York Times. I can't tell if he orders the same meal every morning, but I wouldn't be surprised if he did.He seems too old to still be working – so I wonder if he's a retiree who can't stand inactivity and keeps a disciplined routine to avoid going crazy? Might he be an eccentric wealthy man?When he finishes, he neatly places his paper in his backpack and silently exits – thus, he only “exists” in my consciousness for a few minutes every morning.Another customer is a little man I call 'Louie DiPalma' since he vaguely resembles the character of that name from the classic TV sitcom 'Taxi,' He, too, is a creature of habit – he always orders four large coffees (presumably for himself and three of his colleagues at work) and departs. I dislike getting behind him in line, since it always takes so long to fill his order.But, I wonder why he was chosen as a 'designated coffee-purchaser'? Are the other three people never willing to perform this task?Or (improbably) does he drink all four cups himself?Yet another customer is also a short man – a middle-aged fellow with greying hair and always neatly outfitted. He is quite elegant and austere, but he wears a grim visage. Is he unhappy? Angry? Bored? Or just very serious?He is very prim and proper – and never smiles.I know that many short men feel sensitive and inadequate over their lack of stature and seek to compensate through aggressive behavior – but this gentleman isn't like that. Perhaps he has resigned himself to his Lilliputian height and sadly accepts it.Then there is this overweight middle-aged woman I always see there. I suspect she is an officer worker drone and she always elicits sadness in me. Maybe she was beautiful and slender during her youth – but now has sunk into a dull kind of aging dowdiness.