January 19, 2004
These are the people that you meet.
This morning stopped for the usual at Coopers, where Jeremy was working solo. He knew my favourite mug already (!!) but asked whether I like the espresso "short" or "medium." I paused; I've never confronted that question, as the cheery baristas behind the counter have always pulled the coffee just right. "Medium?" I hazarded, remembering that the mug looks right when it's about 2/3 full of foamy espresso.
And indeed medium was the ticket.
Missed the 8.07, so I lingered in the chilly air and read the newspaper (singular: the Chronicle hasn't been appearing regularly on my doorstep the past week.
I arrived at the Caltrain station just as the 8.07 was pulling out -- fifteen minutes late?! and sat on a bench to read the Examiner, the funny pages of which become shorter each week (at least they still carry Luann). Alas for the two-newspaper town!
An elderly woman on the bench next to me was ringing someone, trying to find a phone number. The voice on the other end started dispensing the digits, but the woman scrambled for a pen and paper. Handy with the Sharpie, I handed her the pen and the newspaper, and she shakily wrote down the numbers. She said into the phone: "If I miss the train, there's a nice young man with a bicycle who will give me a ride." (She got off in Palo Alto.)
