Running a little late on a dark, rainy morning in Dublin, I decided to be hung for a sheep instead of a lamb and stopped off for a restorative coffee.
The Coffee Drop makes a consistently good brew and the staff are fantastic fun, but don’t tell them I said that. I pushed open the door that never shuts. Samira, or Sammie as she was christened, was behind the counter. She’s pretty straight-laced, so they wind her up a lot.
“Ah, there you are, Dreamboat,” she said, as I walked in.
“Ah, Samira, you finally dragged yourself out of bed today.”
“Kicked out, more like.”
“I know the feeling.”
“I don’t think you get kicked out of too many beds, Tony.”
“You’d be surprised.”
“When was the last time?”
“I don’t remember.”
“A flat white, is it, love?”
“That’d be fantastic, Samira.”
A noise, like a small pebble being thrown into a tin can, came from behind the pastry case that blocked my view of the coffee machine.
“What’s that noise?”
“Sandra is playing with the coffee beans. She flicks them into the waste bin when she’s not busy.”
“Wait. Are you saying she’s flicking her bean?”
“I did that last night, Tony.” Sandra’s voice floated mellifluously through the ether.
I took a couple of steps to my right as Sandra started making my coffee.
“How was it, Sandra?” I asked.
“Not as good as when you’re not doing it for me, Tony.” She winked, and I held in a laugh.
“What’s your technique? You might be applying too much pressure.”
“Did you hear him, Sammie?”
“Yes, he’s a dirt bird, Sandra.”
“I think he’s sexy,” she said, then, to me, “Don’t I darlin’?”
“How could you not, Babe?”
“Babe is it?” Sammie said.
“Yes I’m his Babe, aren’t I, Tony?”
“Everyone’s his Babe, Sandra.”
“But they don’t let him flick their beans, do they Tony?”
“Ladies. I’m actually standing here.”
“You look ultra sexy this morning, Tony. Big date after work? Are you two-timing me?”
“No, Sandra. It might be four- or five-timing.”
“A finger for each of us then?”
“Sandra, stop that,” Sammie said, disgustedly.
“She’s a retired nun, Tony.”
The door opened and two young construction workers came in followed by three women in their twenties, I guessed. I recognised two of them.
“Morning, Tony,” they all said together.
“Morning ladies.”
“Don’t you run off without our kiss today. You got away light the last time,” the girl called Amy said.
The two builders looked at the floor. Sandra noticed and pasted an evil grin on her face.
“Here, you three, leave him alone. There’s five of us he has to keep sweet, isn’t there, Babe?”
“Is that true, Tony?” Amy asked.
“That’s the rumour, Amy,” Sandra said.
“That’s not fair, is it girls?”
“Here’s your flat white, Tony. I didn’t spit in it this morning.”
“I never had you down as a spitter, Sandra.”
“Will you two ever stop?” Sammie said.
I retired to the condiment station and sugared my coffee. Sandra watched as I finished stirring and tasting, then walked to the counter to demand a kiss. I gave her a quick one and she grabbed me to get a longer one.
“You’re the best kisser, Tony. One of these days I might be able to control myself.”
She winked at me and laughed a filthy laugh.
“See you, Sammie.”
“Come back here, you,” Amy shouted at me, “where’s mine?”
“Tony, don’t kiss her. You don’t know where she’s been.”
“Will you three shut up?” Sammie screamed and pointed at the two builders.
“Do you two want to kiss Tony too?” Sandra said to them, conspiratorially.
They said nothing but watched as each of the ladies came forward for a kiss.
Amy, as flirtatious as ever, lingered over hers as usual.
“One of these days, Amy, I’m gonna kiss you for real,” I said, as she stood with her arms around my neck, a filthy smile on her lips.
“Promises, promises. I think you’re all talk, Tony. I’d like to see you prove it.”
“Wouldn’t we all, Amy?” Sandra shouted across the counter, handing two coffees to the two builders.
I laughed and decided it best to leave the shop. I waved at them but Sammie called me as I went through the doorway,
“Tony, what about me? Don’t I get a kiss too?”
“Ah for fuck’s sake, Samira,” I said, “get your little arse over here then.”
