The grumpy barista

I held my coffee through the dark, U-ed around the banister, found the landing in the deepest black, the occasional car passing on the road outside shedding light through the curtain. I did it all without seeing where I was going. How much of what we do is just a bodily memory of having done it before? Knowing the exact spot on the wall of the light switch – how do we know in the dark exactly where the spot on the wall is? Or the first step? Or the second? Or the abrupt right turn?

Some days just the waking up makes you grumpy. It’s the dreams faults, the cars on the road, the sick boyfriend snoring, the cat stealing your covers. Last night I dreamt I went to starbucks and a women working there was so chipper to the customers because that was part of her job, but I showed up and under her breath I could hear her say how much she hated all the people and the customers and the fucking cream. And I was the one listening to the things people say when they think no one can hear them. I was there listening. And I told her I wouldn’t tell anyone and we became friends.

Who else do I write about if not you?

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2 Responses to The grumpy barista

  1. This may be a total non-sequitur…at Dishwasher’s Tears, Scott Odom recently wrote about a book he’s reading (which I will underdescribe) about mind/brain being all one thing and the neuro-science behind it all, which is to say the kind of memory, by touch? by intuition? that lets us find our way in the dark is something very specific. But then I feel we are generally finding our way in the dark, since where we are going, like tomorrow, is somewhere we’ve never been yet it matters where we put our feet, that we known when to hold on. A planet of moles, just enough vision to tell night from day. (bit of a tangent, please excuse) xo

    • rachvb says:

      I like tangents!
      That’s very interesting – I’ll have to check it out. I have always wondered how, when we can see nothing, we still find out way or know where the light switch is placed to help find out way. It’s all been about familiarity to me – how well I knew a house. If I knew it well I could walk around in the dark without hitting a thing because my mind had already mapped it.
      I too feel like we walk around in the dark all the time – tomorrow is the dark, the unknown – even the next hour is unknown.
      “A planet of moles” I like that.

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