THE COFFEE CUP

It started and ended with a cup.

It was cool and windy. She stopped at a vending machine for coffee. She realized she’s one peso short. The coffee was 10. She only had nine. Then came a peso on the palm of his hand, offered, brushed from behind her. She hadn’t noticed him at all. Oh, thank you, was all she said then finally delighted at her coffee. She brushed herself aside giving way for the next customer. She sipped, loved it, and sipped again. She felt warmth. Seconds grew awkward as she naturally expected the man to proceed to get his coffee. Baffled, she finally asked, “You’re not able to get your coffee?” “Oh no, it’s fine.” “There’s still some left, isn’t there?” “Yeah, I think so. But it’s fine.” She was not understanding him. Naturally, she thought, he would have his turn after her.

And then she felt embarrassed.

The coffee was 10. He only had nine. She felt guilty; he saw it so he assured her it’s really nothing to worry about. They stared at each other for a moment and then smiled. And then laughed. It was no longer awkward, but funny. Amidst the laughter, she tried to apologize for “stealing” his one peso. She knew, though, he wouldn’t like it, so she offered to share her drink. “I’d love to, but it’s alright.” She insisted. He refused, so she insisted more, close to pushing. He agreed, “Only if you’d finish it up to mid-cup,” sounding more challenging than commanding. She OKed.

They sat at the bench just beside the vending machine, she, waiting for the coffee to cool off a bit, he, waiting for his turn. Little by little, she sipped her coffee until its hotness was bearable. They started talking, reluctantly at first, then there was a conversation. She takes the train every time she needs to; he mostly rides the bus but apparently not this time.

The wind blew as it always did those days of cool months. They were a painting to behold. They spoke freely and listened earnestly to each other, almost forgetting about the finish-it-up-to-mid-cup goal.

Now, she handed the cup to him, noticing how much she’s consumed. He took it. She thanked and beckoned him goodbye, as the approaching train reached a halt. It was quick but the smiles were forever.

HE--felt a tinge of joy as he pushed the dilapidated cup back to its drawer, its home for two years now.

SHE--was at the train station again, as she had always been everyday for the past two years, waiting for a familiar sight to see. But for the past two years, she went home and took the train, looking forward to going to the station again the next day.

(written 3 sep 07)