Bitter Brew

The diner was filling up as the clock ticked past 7 a.m. on this sunny Tuesday in June. Caroline gave herself a mental high-five for arriving fifteen minutes ahead of the rush. She’d sat in her usual booth halfway between the diner’s front door and the restroom, positioned far enough from the door’s clanging bell to avoid being jolted each time a customer entered the greasy joint. The bench seat’s cracked red vinyl, black tape holding the splits together for dear life, held hidden imprints of all the butts that had occupied the spot over the past forty years. As she dug her fork into slightly overcooked scrambled eggs, Caroline smiled at the thought that her own rear end had made a series of daily impressions here as well.

A young waitress refilled Caroline’s cup, spilling several drops on the grey Formica table. The bitter aftertaste of coffee too long on the burner made her wince. It was a moment of awakening, her tongue responding just as her heart had done when she’d learned of Theresa’s betrayal. She spit the vile brew back into the cup. Ejecting Theresa wouldn’t be as easy, but she had to try. After Caroline had paid the check (“keep the change”, she’d told the bleach-blonde waitress who looked too harried to register the fact she’d just received a 50% tip) she slipped on her light green sweater and made her way out the door.

The sweet smell of star jasmine wafted past her nose as she marched down the sidewalk toward her apartment. Theresa’s friendship had once been as sweet, had arrived out of thin air at a time Caroline least expected it.

How could she do this to me?

They worked side-by-side at the Verizon store, swapping funny stories about customers. Theresa—older by five years and somewhat wiser, Caroline had thought—was always giving Caroline tips on how to attract women. With her long auburn locks and piercing green eyes, Theresa clearly had no trouble attracting lusty ladies. Short and stout, Caroline was prone to brushing her blonde bangs out of her eyes when customers entered the store. Two weeks earlier, she’d performed this unconscious movement and instantly locked eyes with the most enchanting specimen she’d ever seen. Tall and slender, the black woman walked right up to the counter. Caroline’s stomach flip-flopped. They’d discussed the latest iPhone, and Caroline passed her card across the glass counter.

“What was that lady’s name?” asked Theresa, suddenly appearing from the store room.

“Joan,” replied Caroline.

“Well, you found yourself a hottie, that’s for sure,” Theresa said, half-smile forming. “She’ll be back, she’s gonna buy that phone. Be sure to program your number into it!”

Caroline had beamed. Yes, that’s just what she’d do. Love could be just around the corner!

And then…and then it happened. The very next day, Caroline was walking home from work, window-shopping and sipping an iced mocha she’d bought from Starbucks. There, directly across the street, sat Theresa and Joan. They were staring into each other’s eyes, holding hands, oblivious to everything else in the universe. This was too much! How could Theresa have told her to pursue Joan, when she herself had been plotting a Joan take-down all along? Or was it more than that? Had they been dating already? Was Theresa playing Caroline for the fool since the jump? Outrageous!!

Tear streaming down her face, Theresa had tossed her expensive coffee drink into the dumpster. She couldn’t even remember how she’d made it all the way home, had no recollection of arriving at her apartment or opening the door. All she knew was that the next morning, she’d made a promise to herself not to trust women with auburn hair and sparkling green eyes. Never again. Finito.

Days passed, and Joan never returned to the shop, at least not while Caroline was working. Theresa, cool as a cucumber, acted like nothing had happened. Caroline refused to confront her—what was the point? She’d lost a friend and a potential lover, all in one fell swoop. Protesting would only make things worse. And a funny thing happened. The more she thought about the debacle, the less it bothered her. Hadn’t she known, deep down, that sophisticated Theresa was no match for a regular gal like her? Sure she had.

It came as no surprise when Theresa came to work three days later with a crappy attitude. Had Joan broken up with her? Caroline hoped so. After all, Joan had seemed perfectly nice. Why would she want to date a two-faced person like Theresa? Did this mean that Caroline still stood a chance of getting together with the illustrious Joan? Catching herself in this daydream, she’d given herself a stern lecture.

Stop it. Finding love in a Verizon store is about as likely as buying a winning lottery ticket at the local market. Hoping for easy love or instant wealth is a fool’s errand.

Yes, she decided on this cool June morning, bitter coffee was the perfect antidote to a ruined relationship. Pride Month be damned. From now on, she’d make a point of telling the diner’s wait staff not to refill her cup until the coffee pot was nearly empty. The more scorched the brew, the better she’d like it.

From now on, it was business-only during working hours. As for interacting with co-workers, well, that would take some time to figure out. A new guy, Jimmy, had shown up a day ago, all smiles and eagerness. Could she befriend him? It wasn’t in her nature to blow people off without giving them a chance to show who they were. Yes, she’d take young Jimmy under her wing, give him tips on trouble-shooting phone problems. But if he started in with relationship advice, she’d cut him off like a turnip top.

Bitter coffee, coat my tongue. Save my heart while I’m still young. Lying women—stay away! No more chances to betray!

As Caroline rounded the corner, she glimpsed a slender woman just to her left. What if it was Joan?

Have I learned nothing?

Without giving it another thought, she brushed her bangs out of her eyes, put on a smile, and turned toward the lady.

“It’s Caroline, right? I’m so glad to see you. I still want to get that phone. Are you working today?” Joan asked.

A second chance for romance? Or just another dead end? Either way, she’d make a sale. Maybe buying a lottery ticket wasn’t such a bad idea, after all.