Morning Minute Coffee in a Restaurant

Coffee 2

I am meeting our daughter for coffee this morning. The restaurant is crowded, the line is long. Every unoccupied chair is immediately taken by the next person in a continuous flow of people in, people out. The lights are bright, the cooks on the line shouting orders to each other. When we finally find two empty chairs at the same table, I realize I have already begun to hurry simply to match the atmosphere.

I pause mid-sip and take 20 seconds to notice the position of the cup in my hand. I am resting my elbow on the table, pausing between sips, balancing the heavy cup with one hand tightly gripping the handle. I set the cup down gently on the wooden table. I let it go. I dangle my whole arm for a few seconds to my side, shaking my hand and wrist.

As I lift the cup again, I feel the weight, how it pulls on my wrist, the effort my forearm is making, the support of the elbow braced on the table. After taking a sip, I set the cup down again. I raise my empty hand, feeling its weight dancing at the end of my wrist while my elbow supports it.

I notice the weight of the cup as I pick it up again. It seems lighter.