She is a barista, and she knows her job. She knows that she will have customers who have arcane drink orders, customers who won’t get off their cell phones, customers who throw their money at her in a disracted manner. This is fine.

She asks, “And how are you today, sir?”

He is wearing a well-cut suit in charcoal grey. His shirt is pale blue, and he has either the fashion sense or the girlfriend to select for him a blue-and-violet striped tie.

He looks her in the eye. “I’m better than I deserve.”

She takes his money, she makes his change. His fingers shock hers like static electricity. His pale brown eyes are joyful.

She doesn’t want to smile back. She smiles back.