Selection from The Tenant's Sister:
Near tears in the living room, Ruby hung up on Virginia and decided she wouldn't answer the phone again for a week. Make that two, she thought.
She walked toward the kitchen to reheat her cup of coffee as the phone began ringing again. Ruby heard footsteps and looked up to see Johnny descending the stairs, finishing the top buttons on his shirt. Not noticing Ruby, he went to pick up the receiver.
"Don't," Ruby said.
Johnny eyed the phone a moment, then looked to her.
"Your sister?"
"I don't want to talk about it," Ruby said as she finally gripped her cold cup of coffee. Johnny shook his head and knelt down to unplug the phone cord.
**END OF SELECTION**
This short excerpt from the novel The Tenant's Sister (1957) highlights several technological advances that have occurred since partway through the past century. The most prominent, naturally, is the use of the telephone. While it is still possible to hang up on a caller, modern devices do not have receivers. Also, automatic caller ID allows us to see previous callers in the "call log" display. And finally, the selection ends with a cord being unplugged, suggesting that unlike a phone charger being unplugged, the device will not receive further calls until it is plugged in again.
Sharp-eyed viewers will also note that modern coffee maintains perfect temperature for weeks, the buttons on shirts have now been replaced with self-fastening microfibers that inform the Superiors of our coordinates at all times, and siblings are not allowed in this fresh hell that we call everyday life.
Also, nobody is named Virginia anymore.
Showing posts with label coffee. Show all posts
Showing posts with label coffee. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 19, 2015
Friday, February 22, 2008
You Know What Sounds Great About Now?
Sheila spied the time on the receipt as she handed it to a disheveled woman along with two bucks and change. Three-thirty. Sheila's shift would be over in an hour and she could change out of the smell of coffee grinds and muffins, a smell that made her sick even as she noticed the look of appreciation that came over customers as they encountered it.
Behind her stood Jon, a true barista who never seemed to tire of this life, although his constant tardiness seemed to indicate just the opposite. Still, Sheila liked Jon's simple, easy-going nature and appreciated that he didn't hum excessively, click his tongue, or whistle. A dull life is better than one of annoyance.
As she waited for the next customer, a middle-aged regular named Walter, to sift his pockets for exact change, a man with a curious smile entered the shop and took his place in line. He looked around and began to casually clap his hands as he teetered back and forth on his heels. After Walter parted to find a quiet table by the window, the man stepped forward and squinted to read the chalk-drawn menu behind Sheila.
"Oh, boy. Coffee sounds great about now," he said.
"Great," said Sheila. "We've got lots of it."
"I can see that."
Still looking, he stood there for a moment. His smile faded as his eyes drifted down the list of items. When he reached the last drink on the menu, he frowned.
"What's in a Caramel Latte?"
"Um."
Jon turned from the whirring coffee machines to face the man.
"It's caramel. And milk. And coffee." Jon said.
"Oh, oh. I see," said the man. "Sounds good. Think I'll have one of those."
"It's four twenty-eight." said Sheila.
"Funny, I've got three thirty-six." said the man as he pointed to his watch. "I'm just kidding. Here you are."
He handed a five dollar bill to Sheila.
"Keep the change."
"Thanks," she said as she threw the remaining coins into a small plastic cup next to the register.
The man reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small digital camera. He quickly pointed it at Sheila and snapped a picture. She looked at him dumbly. He winked at her as he waited for the image to appear on the camera's small screen.
"Hey," he said. "You take a better picture than you thought you did."
He showed Sheila the picture that he had taken from where he stood. Jon stepped beside her and placed the man's drink on the counter along with a straw and a napkin. Turning to leave the shop, the man's smile returned to full form and he began to whistle.
"Coffee!" he said as he disappeared through the front door.
"That was weird," said Jon after a moment.
"Yeah, that was pretty fucking weird," said Walter, his back turned.
Behind her stood Jon, a true barista who never seemed to tire of this life, although his constant tardiness seemed to indicate just the opposite. Still, Sheila liked Jon's simple, easy-going nature and appreciated that he didn't hum excessively, click his tongue, or whistle. A dull life is better than one of annoyance.
As she waited for the next customer, a middle-aged regular named Walter, to sift his pockets for exact change, a man with a curious smile entered the shop and took his place in line. He looked around and began to casually clap his hands as he teetered back and forth on his heels. After Walter parted to find a quiet table by the window, the man stepped forward and squinted to read the chalk-drawn menu behind Sheila.
"Oh, boy. Coffee sounds great about now," he said.
"Great," said Sheila. "We've got lots of it."
"I can see that."
Still looking, he stood there for a moment. His smile faded as his eyes drifted down the list of items. When he reached the last drink on the menu, he frowned.
"What's in a Caramel Latte?"
"Um."
Jon turned from the whirring coffee machines to face the man.
"It's caramel. And milk. And coffee." Jon said.
"Oh, oh. I see," said the man. "Sounds good. Think I'll have one of those."
"It's four twenty-eight." said Sheila.
"Funny, I've got three thirty-six." said the man as he pointed to his watch. "I'm just kidding. Here you are."
He handed a five dollar bill to Sheila.
"Keep the change."
"Thanks," she said as she threw the remaining coins into a small plastic cup next to the register.
The man reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small digital camera. He quickly pointed it at Sheila and snapped a picture. She looked at him dumbly. He winked at her as he waited for the image to appear on the camera's small screen.
"Hey," he said. "You take a better picture than you thought you did."
He showed Sheila the picture that he had taken from where he stood. Jon stepped beside her and placed the man's drink on the counter along with a straw and a napkin. Turning to leave the shop, the man's smile returned to full form and he began to whistle.
"Coffee!" he said as he disappeared through the front door.
"That was weird," said Jon after a moment.
"Yeah, that was pretty fucking weird," said Walter, his back turned.
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