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Sweaty Gruyere & Other Things We Know About You

March 12, 2010

Each morning, we take a seat at the window table, fuel up on lattés and run through events from the previous day. We have pretty smiles and quiet eyes, and now and then, we expose our big, loud laughs. We are 7:30 Club, and we know all kinds of things about you. And you? We’re pretty sure you’re watching us, too.

We know who takes too much sugar in their coffee, and who pours cream into their Americanos with a heavy, heart-unhealthy hand. We watch you order two pastries, quickly eat one and tuck the other in a napkin for later. We suspect the napkin does a poor job of containing your mid-morning treat, and the bottom corner of your pocket is probably jammed with lint, an old streetcar transfer and enough crumbs to assemble a croissant from scratch. 

We know you arrived each morning on the arm of a particular gentleman, and that suddenly, the guy was gone, the neighbourhood carved into post-relationship quadrants and the café off limits for him.

We remember how cute you were before you let your hair turn shaggy; we remember before your belly began to strain at the buttons on your shirt. We remember when your kid was in a stroller and can’t believe he’s already waist-high. We like you best in the sky-blue button-down, and think you are much cuter without the grimy ballcap. We admire your high heels (the bottle-green ones you’re still breaking in, the ones that make a great click against the floor tiles); we wish we could walk that smoothly in shoes so tall!

We know one another’s star signs since L. reads everyone’s horoscope aloud at 7:45, and we make guesses about your character: if perhaps you do that thing all the time because your Aries nature won’t let you be any other way. If the Capricorn in you is to blame for that thing you said the other day. 

Once, we played a game, three of us seated in a row watching the door. D. invented code words we were supposed to call out when each person walked in: “doctor” for someone we’d like to sleep with; “patient” if there was no chance in hell; “nurse” if we had done the deed; and, a series of medical symptoms to distinguish between nurses we wish were still in service and those we wish we’d never worked alongside. The game was called off minutes later. We shuddered at the lens it trained on our private lives, and how it was much, much too early in the day to be reflecting on our sex lives that way.

I know Z. likes her grilled cheese with a slice of Gruyere heated just enough that it breaks a sweat. Z. knows the reason why, one morning, I cried. We know each step in D.’s bike-locking routine, and D. knows the quickest route from my place to the café, obeying one-way streets. I have nearly the same birthday as E., the man who knows what sort of coffee we drink, and that our orders rarely change. 

7:30 Club is less nosy than it sounds. We are caffeinated and watchful yet very discreet. Never fear — your morning secrets are safe.

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5 Comments leave one →
  1. foodandpassion permalink
    March 12, 2010 5:26 pm

    We know that the espresso machine will have enough heat and pressure to allow A or E to pull us our daily dose, every day, without fail. We know that the everyone in the room needs this place for reasons that rarely divert from loneliness, need for office space, or wanting to be acknowledged. We sneer at those fools that order drip coffee. We smile at Mystery Men every morning from their sporty car windows after they leave and have not exchanged a word for over two months. We borrow lighters, and perch on uncomfortable, folding chairs to sit outside in the nicer weather on the shady side of a busy street. We call the names of the people we’ve never been introduced to standing in line who have stopped their cars, only for a minute, as parking ticket cops pull up across the street. We know their names, most of them. We know who just got pregnant. We know who just lost their jobs, and see them in contrast to those who have just come back from holiday with a tan. We see the numbers of people fluctuate as the sun rises earlier, or when it rains.
    Perhaps it would be prudent for the 7:30 club to also meet post meridian, in low light, with Malbec and see how it would be different, but the same.

    • welltailored permalink*
      March 12, 2010 6:24 pm

      Ohhhh! 7:30 PM Club! Yesss!

  2. lilboyblue permalink
    March 23, 2010 10:53 am

    Distinguishing by Medical Symptoms? Oh dear. I find a simple “Nurse Ratched” vs “Nurse Betty” to do the trick. Then again, there are no nurses where I get my morning buzz. Your sunrise spot sounds far more fun.

    • welltailored permalink*
      March 23, 2010 10:56 am

      Believe me–NOTHING takes the shine off “sexy” as fast as referring to having gone all the way as “enema”. hahahaha. We promptly decided that next time, D. can think up the game and its rules, but Z. and I will be in charge of its language and terminology.

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  1. Business and Pleasure: At the Clubhouse « Well Tailored Cakes and Neckties

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