COFFEE?

Jim parked and stepped out onto Hickory Rd. He had heard good things about the basement cafe under The Public House, but hadn’t felt comfortable showing his face around these parts just yet. It was early Fall, a little after 9:30 in the morning.

Crossing Hickory, Jim skipped up the curb and wandered the neighborhood until he came across a 3 story residence that had recently been gutted and turned into the hottest restaurant in town. There was a generous walkway and a wheelchair-accessible porch, and, off to the left, a path with a sign with an arrow and the bright word:

“COFFEE?”

Jim laughed and followed the arrow. The entrance to a basement had been decked out with flowers, but Jim couldn’t help notice how hard to find and inaccessible the space was. Still, he had his mission. Down the stairs and into the basement he went.

The space was bigger than he expected. Some brick here. Some bright, floral wallpaper there. Fancy dishes and trinkets from bygone eras decorated the walls. There were just enough tables and chairs to fill the space and satisfy a good crowd. The music that filled the air was soft and pleasant, some 50’s doo wop. As Jim made his way to the counter, which appeared to be more of a bar, he was surprised to find his old boss tinkering with an elegant looking espresso machine.

“Morning sunshine. You’re just the man I was looking for.” Jim did his best not to startle Jeff.

Jeff stopped what he was doing and turned to face Jim. Making a show of it, he blinked and rubbed his eyes. “Jim? Is that you? Back from the dead?!”

Jim laughed. “Is that the rumor? I just went to the beach and tried to make some quick cash bartending through the summer.”

“How’d that work out for you?” Jeff asked knowingly.

“I’m broker than I’ve ever been.” Jim sighed.

“Wanna work here?” Jeff cut to the quick.

Jim smiled. “I thought I’d have to convince you when I was driving here.”

“You don’t need to convince me of anything. I trust you. I know you. You can coffee and cocktail down here and it’s quiet. I think you’ll like it.”

Jeff sold him on it that quickly. Jim knew he made a mistake moving to the shore and trying to bartend events and clubs for big money. He couldn’t handle the crowds and he couldn’t handle the solitude when he wasn’t working. Bad news all around, but mistakes happen.

Jeff added, “I don’t know what your schedule is like or what hours you’re looking for, but I need a supervisor for this place. I’ll get you a key and a code for the alarm, there’s three servers that work part time and two cooks that work full time.”

“Sounds good to me. Open availability and as many hours as you’ll give me.” Jim replied.

“Hell yeah. You can start fucking now if you want to.” Jeff let out a sigh as he turned back to the espresso machine. “Can you tell me why this isn’t pouring shots right?”

“I can certainly try, but I’d rather not have a formal shift today. Start tomorrow? Bright and early?” Jim asked, knowing the answer.

“Whatever you say. Get over here and help me.” Jeff moved aside as Jim approached the espresso machine. It was an expensive one, about the cost of a new car, and it just so happened to be Jim’s favorite model from this particular brand of high end espresso machines.

“I’m not gonna yell at you… yet.” Jim said as he looked at the unkempt machine. “Who has been responsible for cleaning and maintaining this?”

“It’s everyone’s responsibility.” Jeff said.

Jim looked Jeff dead in the eyes. “Dude, I know how much this machine cost you. It needs daily maintenance and cleaning between every single shot pulled to stay in peak condition and producing shots up to YOUR quality standards. I know the old restaurant didn’t have one like this. These things are expensive to get and expensive to replace. Let me clean it for 5 or 10 minutes and it’ll be all right, but if I need to retrain everyone on maintaining the espresso machine, I’m going to do that.”

Jeff nodded. “Fair enough. You do what you know is best.”

The espresso machine had two reservoir group heads that Jim disassembled and soaked in a cleaning solution first. The screens were caked with old espresso and probably had not been removed since the machine was installed. The portafilter baskets were a similar story. He took off the handle and removed the basket, finding a sludge of old, dried espresso inside. He soaked the metal pieces and set to cleaning out the trap beneath the group heads. This had been cleaned before, but not taken apart, so there was still some grime to remove. He let all the pieces soak separately for 10 minutes, then put the machine back together. It took him a while to find the blind basket, but he put a little cleaning solution in and locked it into the first group head. He held down two buttons on the machine and an internal cleaning cycle began.

“What’s that doing?” Jeff asked.

“It’s cleaning the inside of the machine. You’re supposed to do this at the end of everyday. It’s running 5 rinses with the cleaning solution in the blind basket, then I’ll dump what comes out and I’ll do 5 more rinses without the solution. Just water. Then I gotta do the other group head.”

“What’s a group head?” Jeff asked.

Jim shook his head. “Read the manual next time. The group head is where the water comes out that the portafilter locks into.”

Jeff smiled. “And a portafilter?”

“The espresso basket with the handle.”

“Neat!” Jeff laughed at his own sense of humor.

About 20 minutes later, Jim and Jeff were standing outside the cafe enjoying two freshly pulled, balanced and smooth shots of espresso.

“See you tomorrow?” Jeff asked after taking a sip.

“How early?” Jim responded.

“We’ve been opening at 8:00.” Jeff said. “I’ll be here by 7:30. Whenever between then is fine.”

“Thanks, boss.” Jim smiled and finished his espresso.

“Glad to have you back. Don’t be late tomorrow.” Jeff said as Jim handed him the empty espresso cup.

Jim looked at him funny. “When have I ever been late to work?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jeff said as he started back inside. “Well… don’t disappear again.”

Jim smiled. “I won’t.”