Insomnia Cafe

The door had no chime. In fact, it made no sound at all. And when Paige stepped into the small foyer of Insomnia Cafe, her sneakered feet made a barely audible whisper against the cushion of a welcome mat before being promptly ushered into a pair of house slippers. The door attendant smiled and gestured at a pad of paper with the following typed in bold at the top: Write your name and purpose for your visit, please. There were already dozens of names with purposes ranging from Picking up a batch of Meryl's special blend to Story time with Annabelle. Paige neatly wrote her name and First day working here before looking hopefully at the attendant. He glanced at the paper, nodded, silently reached out his hand to shake hers, then pointed to the bar area. The room was dimly lit by tiny votive candles scattered throughout the room. She squinted in the direction of the attendant's finger to observe a tall man with curly blond hair wiping down the bar. He looked up, as if sensing their presence. The attendant gesticulated and the bar man grinned, beckoning Paige toward him.

As Paige approached the bar, the man motioned for her to sit. She chose what looked like a small armchair attached to a pole bolted into the floor, a sort of chair/barstool hybrid. It was very cozy, memory foam draped in fleece, the chair equivalent of a hug. The bar man scribbled something on a small notepad, then pushed it toward her and smiled. She glanced down at the sloppy scrawl: Another sleep-tender arrives in 5, then I'll show you around. Want a drink or snack? She met his bright eyes and shook her head no with a shy smile. She observed the rest of the room. People slouched in arm chairs, some sipping tea and reading books or newspapers with tiny lights, others dozing quietly. A sign posted next to a small light on the wall farthest from the door read: For the comfort of all customers, those who snore will be asked to leave or reserve a private room.

After exactly five minutes, a stocky man with dark hair slipped behind the bar and nodded at the blond man who then nodded at Paige, and she followed him to a door in a dark corner she hadn't previously noticed labeled Employees Only.Once inside, he silently led her down a long hallway and gestured her into what looked like an office, where he began speaking immediately.

“Hi, I'm Darren, purveyor of herbal teas and other sleepytime goodies.” He had a smooth British accent and a surprisingly upbeat voice. He gestured around the room, which contained two worn couches, a round table, and an assortment of books and magazines. “The employee lounge, where we come to take breaks and gossip.” He put his hand up to his mouth in a mock whisper. “Don't worry, it's soundproofed.” She gave him a tight smile in response.

“It's quite funny that in order to work here you have to thoroughly trash your own sleep schedule. Our whole purpose is to help people out of their insomnia, and yet here we are knocking about all night when we should be asleep.” Darren chuckled as he guided her into a small side room containing a kitchenette, where he gestured to the coffee maker as if revealing the grand prize behind door number two. “And this is the enabler of this awake-in-the-middle-of-the-night madness. Drink as much as you like, but never, and I mean NEVER bring a cup outside of this room. Many of our clients are very sensitive to the smell and will get very upset.”

He pointed to a large tin that took up most of a small card table that was pressed against a hostile-looking wooden chair. “Also best to pop a mint before you go out there, especially if you'll be doing storytime. Coffee breath tends to waft a bit.” She suspected he'd already downed a few cups of the sleep-killing brew, but he insisted on pouring a trickle into a small mug and then downing it like a shot. Luckily he placed the mug gently on the counter rather than slamming it, and moved quickly for the mint chaser. “Cheers,” he chirped before placing one mint in his mouth and another in the pocket of his black jeans.

“Meryl will be in to collect you soon. You're in for a treat, shadowing the queen of sleep herself. This place is her baby and she has saved lives. That woman is an absolute saint.” They stood in silence for a few seconds, which strangely seemed to make him uncomfortable.

“Well,” he clapped his hands and rubbed them together, “I better get back to it. Those Z's won't catch themselves.” He grinned, clearly pleased with his own joke. While Darren seemed unusually upbeat for a sleep-tender slinging nighttime herbal blends, he had been silent and subdued when he was at his post. Perhaps holding in his clever quips for an entire shift left him ready to burst whenever he was actually given the opportunity to converse. It was a shame that very palatable accent was being wasted.

After Darren blew out of the room, Paige decided not to partake in any of the coffee and made her way back out to the larger break area. As she was doing so, the outer door opened to reveal a small woman with white-streaked gray hair that hovered just above her shoulders. Something about her reminded Paige of a doll. Making her way across the room, the woman's footsteps were soundless in dainty powder blue slippers and her light floral print robe moved with a graceful swish. She smiled warmly.

“You must be Paige. Welcome to Insomnia Cafe. I'm Meryl, founder and sleep maven.” She winked and extended a hand.

Paige reached for Meryl's outstretched palm. It was warm and soft, yet her handshake was firm.

“Nice to meet you, thank you for hiring me,” Paige replied politely.

“Don't thank me yet!” Meryl laughed softly. Then she glanced at Paige. “That was a joke. Most people seem to like working here. But maybe they just tell me that because I'm the boss.” Her blue eyes had a mischievous glint for a moment before softening again. “Tonight, you're just going to observe. I'll show you what we do and you can start thinking about what area might be a good fit. Darren, who you just met, is one of our sleep-tenders. At first we thought he'd be too chatty, but he's quite taken to it. You learn to converse in other ways, body language and the like. The sleep-tenders prepare beverages and light snacks for people in the lounge – mostly herbal teas and tinctures, sometimes some lavender toast or a glass of milk. They also prepare trays for us to take up to the private rooms, and goodies for our new to-go service that just launched this month. If that's something you think you might be interested in, you can shadow Darren during your next shift. First, I want to show you what else we have to offer. I'm kind of a proud mother hen, you know.” She opened the door into the hallway, motioned for Paige to follow her, and ducked into a stairwell. Meryl moved quickly and silently up three flights. A sleep doll ninja, thought Paige.

Meryl led her out into a thinly-carpeted hallway lined with numbered doors. “This is our storytime floor, sort of a sleep hotel. All rooms are soundproofed so you can talk softly in the hallway. Each room has a bed and a chair – some people prefer to sleep in chairs, as you probably noticed in the lounge – as well as a chair for the reader. We read from tablets now, so the only light will be that little glowing screen. Most clients request the same story for each visit, but some have multiple selections. And some, after you get to know them and what they like to listen to, will let you choose. Those are my favorites.” A lithe woman with long dark hair emerged from one of the rooms and shut the door quietly behind her. She looked up and smiled as the other two women approached.

“Jean, this is Paige, our newest hire. She's going to be shadowing me for a bit.” Meryl reached out and gently squeezed the woman's shoulder, then turned to Paige. “Paige, Jean is my right-hand in all things both here and at home.” Jean grinned broadly and gave Paige an enthusiastic handshake. Jean had looked young upon first approach, but now Paige noticed the eye wrinkles and smile lines and estimated she was only a few years younger than Meryl.

“Are you on your way to storytime with Mr. Scribner?” asked Jean.

Meryl nodded.

Jean giggled softly. “Nothing like getting right into it.”

Paige felt a slight panic but nevertheless followed Meryl to the last room on the left. They silently entered and Paige loomed awkwardly to the side as Meryl began reading from the tablet.

Mr. Scribner was indeed something. He came once a week and was generally asleep after about fifteen minutes of reading. In those fifteen minutes, however, he exhibited every emotion. He cursed, he hollered, he wept. Paige stood in the dark, wide-eyed, as Meryl's calm voice prevailed through what felt like an exorcism, until the man's sobs eventually transformed into tremulous snores. Paige would never have thought someone could react so violently to Where the Sidewalk Ends. After sitting unmoving for a few minutes observing the snoring Mr. Scribner, Meryl nodded and escorted Paige from the room.

In the hallway, Meryl turned to Paige. “All of our clients are unique. They have different needs. Mr. Scribner is one of our more...animated guests. Are you doing okay?”

Paige did her best to keep her facial expression neutral and replied with, “Yes, that was interesting. This place really isn't boring.”

Meryl gazed at her intently. “Did you think it would be?”

“Well, you'd think helping people sleep might be a little bit boring.”

Meryl grinned. “Well, let me tell you this is the most exciting work I've ever done. And I used to be a dealer for backroom card games in my twenties...”

Before Paige could wrap her mind around that last part, Meryl was guiding her toward a different room. “We get new clients all the time. Sure, most of our regulars have their routines. But I like that each routine is unique. I get to play different roles with different people, and I like being able to help them find rest. It's very rewarding. Don't tell Jean, but this work is the great love of my life.” Meryl winked and entered another room.

For the next five hours, Paige watched Meryl read everything from poetry to dramatic renderings of song lyrics to people of all ages with varying temperaments. Some were polite, others cranky. Some were out cold within the first paragraph, others required over an hour of reading. Meryl also ushered Paige into the back of a large room to observe a group storytime that seemed to be quite popular, with a young woman reading cheerfully from a beanbag chair to a sea of people who were nestled under blankets on mats in the tradition of kindergarten naptime.

At the end of Paige's shift, Meryl walked her back to the break room. “So, what did you think?” Her voice was hoarse yet still warm. She sat on the couch and patted the faded cushion next to her. Paige sat too.

“I think I'd like reading to people.” Paige certainly couldn't picture herself standing mutely behind a counter a la Darren.

Meryl nodded. “Make sure you stock up on herbal teas. Employees get a discount. My special blend is what keeps these pipes running smoothly.” She gestured to her throat. “Next time you come in, I'll see if I can convince some of our regular clients to let you sub in as a reader. I can think of a few that might find it exciting. Although not too exciting.” She chuckled.

Jean poked her head into the break room. “Hey Paige, how was your first day?”

“It was good, I liked it.” And she had. It was certainly better than working in a call center.

Jean nodded toward Meryl. “And this one is pretty incredible, isn't she? Voice of an angel, one of our clients said.”

“Oh stop it, you.” Meryl playfully swatted in her direction.

“Why don't you go home and get some rest? You've been here since this morning and it's almost morning again. I know you're done with clients and you look ready to drop.”

Meryl looked at her lovingly, but also with a touch of sadness. Her voice was bright but ragged.

“Oh honey, you know I haven't slept in years.”