The Copious Cup Coffee Shop

Marie had always found comfort in her solitude. As a child, she often opted out of social events, and when it was unavoidable, she retreated to a corner with a book. Able to lose herself in the characters, she could pretend to be as daring as Meg in Little Women, or as courageous as Maya in I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings. The outside world—loud, chaotic, unpredictable—was, for Marie, a danger zone.

Marie’s parents recognized their daughter’s discomfort and supported her the best way they knew how. They protected her and shielded her and made excuses. When there was no way to keep her from harm, they redirect the attention. Growing up with them running defense did her no favors as an adult.

Marie’s therapist, Sandra, had guided her through her anxiety year after year. Sandra would always say with kindness, “Let’s work through it, step-by-step,” during the sessions that followed a harrowing experience. Guiding her patient through the tension, she assured Marie that everyone has fears. “It’s only a matter of developing coping skills.” With that understanding, Marie proceeded. Coping skills in place, she still couldn’t seem to get past the fears. Marie had no desire or necessity to interact with anyone when she could handle everything with a computer.

Like the cliché, Marie had become the cat lady. Her big orange tabby cat, Rupert, was all the company she needed. He was there to entertain her when he batted around the little catnip toy she dangled on a string. Sipping her morning coffee while Rupert bounced and pounced was a great way to start the day.

After breakfast, Rupert would curl up on the stack of manuscripts waiting to be edited on Marie’s desk. Lunch break comprised takeout from one of the many shops and delis brought to her at her door. After lunch, Rupert liked to go for a walk. Their neighborhood of young working professionals was quiet at mid-day and Rupert had his choice of where they’d walk. With the bell on his collar ringing non-stop, Rupert ruled the world. Marie hung on to his leash and envied his confidence.

Getting a cat had been Sandra’s idea. She had hoped it would inspire her patient to find other cat owners. Sandra didn’t expect her client would take home the most bold and outgoing cat in the shelter. With his personality, he satisfied Marie’s need for companionship and then some. In hindsight, she should have insisted Marie get a dog.

“I am thrilled it works out, you and the cat,” Sandra began at their most recent session. “You have seemed happier than ever.”

Marie listened, sensing the therapist had more to say. “So, what? Am I cured?” She joked.

Sandra smiled, a soft upside down arch that hung from her eyes. “It is time to push yourself, Marie.”

Marie knew Sandra was right. Marie decided to try. With Sandra’s help, they come up with a plan to face her fears.

That Tuesday, Marie took the first step in the plan—a visit to the neighborhood cafe on the corner of Second and Main, “The Copious Cup.” Sandra had recommended it as a potential neutral ground to practice being in public. Marie remembered Sandra’s words as she turned the handle of the cafe’s door. Pushing herself began with pushing the door. Her heart did a flip-flop, but Marie counted her breaths and crossed the threshold. “Step one, step two.”

From across the street, Sandra watched as her patient mustered her power.

Once inside, Marie focused on the pleasing smell of freshly ground coffee beans. The sweetness of pastries filled her nostrils, reminding her of when she and her mom baked cookies. Two walls in the shop had painted murals with too many colors, and Marie found the abstract nature of the trees, cats, and birds disconcerting. There was a long shelf on the wall opposite the counter, upon which sat a variety of clown figurines. Designed to add an ambience of quirkiness, it might have been cute to the regulars who frequented this establishment, but for Marie, it only added another stressful element to an already overwhelming environment.

Knowing the ambience was a little over the top, Sandra crossed the street to get a better view of Marie. She saw her client had made it to the counter.

“Welcome to The Copious Cup!” a cheerful voice announced. It was Mason, the cafe owner. His wide smile was as warm as the cinnamon rolls cooling nearby. “What can I get started for you today? We have coffee, tea, muffins, and a hefty dose of good vibes!”

Marie blinked. She wondered if Mason had always spoken loudly and with a growl that made her want to clear her own throat. Disarmed by his enthusiasm, she forgot about the murals and the clowns. “Uh, I… just a coffee, please?”

Her voice came out small, barely audible, and she winced at the jazz music that floated down on her head from speakers hanging above. Too late to back out now, she stepped forward.

“Absolutely! What kind of coffee do you like? Cream? Sugar?” Mason leaned closer with interest. Marie felt a twinge of panic as the proprietor invaded her space. The lighting behind the counter was like a spotlight. So many questions. “Uh, just… regular?” She said an octave deeper than her normal tone.

“Can do! One regular coffee coming right up!” Mason turned to prepare the drink, swirling his arms with a flourish as if he were acting out a scene in a play.

Marie took a breath. You’re doing this. She mustered up a cheer. Hooray.

While she waited for her coffee, she peeked around the interior. There were a few patrons scattered about the small space. A couple at a table deep in conversation, a woman wearing a wide-brimmed hat with her nose shoved in a novel, and a young man in a suit sitting on a stool at the window counter focusing on a laptop screen in front of him. I should have ordered my drink to-go. Marie thought. There was no way she could sit comfortably in this building with so many people.

From outside, Sandra peeked around the corner into the cafe and saw Marie looking around the shop. She could tell Marie was debating whether to stay and have her coffee there.

Marie returned her attention to Mason, who had his back to her as he poured something from a stainless steel pitcher. She looked up and surveyed the menu board—an entire chalkboard filled with multi colored writing listing drinks such as “The Recaptured Latte” and “The Copy Cappuccino.” The chalk, the colors. It was all such a mess. Looking past the anxiety of the chaotic menu board, she focused on the creativity and chuckled, wondering what the story was behind those clever names.

“Here you go!” Mason announced, and set a steaming mug before her. “One regular coffee, no schmooze, no fluff. Perfect for fighting off any dips in productivity!”

“Thanks,” Marie mumbled, wrapping her fingers around the mug. She was less put off by Mason’s friendliness, and her confidence rose, but she knew she had to sit down—a task more challenging than it appeared. Each table seemed like its own little world, private and intimate and yet still too close to everyone.

Summoning her courage, Marie chose a small, open table in the corner, all the while wishing she were in her home with Rupert on her lap. With each sip of coffee that tasted as bold as a mountain face warmed by a summer sun, she felt an unfamiliar sensation—she was relaxing. Her shoulders dropped away from her ears and her ribs loosened. Perhaps being in a public place wasn’t as unbearable as she imagining it to be.

As she watched her client sitting down enjoying a cup of coffee, Sandra deciphered her body language to read loose and light.

Just then, a man approached the table. He looked disheveled, but friendly. Marie held her breath as the muscles in her abdomen tightened. What did he want? Everything in the shop seemed to switch to slow motion. She watched his mouth open to speak.

“Are you using this chair?”

His words were a jumble of sounds. She stared blankly.

“Can I have this chair?”

He was asking a question. Marie blinked as realization crept in.

“Uh, Oh! Sure,” Marie pushed out the words in a breathy grunt.

“Thanks!” the man said as he slid the chair to a table on the opposite side.

“Hey Marie, how’s the coffee?” Sandra’s voice drifted in as she entered the cafe. She waved at Mason before focusing on Marie. Sandra had sprung into action when she witnessed the unknown man approaching Marie. Things had gone so well so far and Sandra wanted to insure there was no cause for a back slide.

“I, uh, …ordered it myself!” Marie beamed. “And I’m actually sitting here drinking it!”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Sandra leaned over. “Can I join you?”

Relieved that the environment hadn’t proved to be too much for her charge, Sandra was proud of Marie and her progress.

“Please do join me.” Marie offered. “My treat.” Marie spoke with self-assurance, then giggled at her own authority.

Sandra smiled and said, “Step by step.”