Latte, no sugar

I rarely drinking coffee since Ramadan started- and now almost come to the end-. I still not fasting this year, but since my son learned to fasting this time, accompany by my husband, I decided to do my own fasting. Means, no breakfast before he goes to school. And I am used to coffee that my husband made. He is a genius home barista. He made very good latté. For now, I don’t want to bother him to make me one. It’s unfair for him. I should try to do my own coffee, learn how to deal with my espresso machine. But I am such a lazy coffee drinker. So, that is it. No breakfast, no coffee in the morning.

And yesterday, I can’t cope anymore. I need caffeine. I started my morning with heavy head, half dizzy half headache. After I dropped my son to school, I lure myself to the best coffee shop around our place. One block from my house. Smelling the coffee gave me real good feeling. And one latte, no sugar.

I sat outside the café, waiting for my coffee. I can’t remember how long ago I am doing this. Sit on the café, waiting for the coffee, had today’s paper, enjoy the ambience around. Must’ve been long time. And I felt I kind of miss it.

There are 2 ladies walked toward me. Waving their hand. I tried to picture who they are. And became clear when they closer. They worked at the Post Office. And I am a regular. I love to go to Post Office. Sometimes just to get little thing, and chat with them. Or show my daughter to them. And have a good laugh. And gossip, sometimes.

My latte comes perfect. My husband did it better. But this is not perfect time to complaint. I just need the caffeine to kick my headache out. Flush my dizzy away.

I still had half cup when a gentleman smiled at me. It took me 10seconds to recognize him. He is the owner of local DVD rental. And we fall into conversation about the weather, the business until he excuse himself and disappear inside the coffee shop.

Another minute. I engaged myself with newspaper until my coffee finished. I just about to off when I saw the lady from local alteration. I waived, she replied. And we had 5 minutes chatting about the kids. She just opened a new shop. And invited me to stop by anytime. I knew this lady since we moved to our house. She lived just around the corner. For me, she my emergency goddess. I never found pants or jeans with perfect length. With only 155cm height, every pant on the market is out of my league. I always came to her to do cutting on my pants. Or sometimes just sew-up some buttons from my son or my husband t-shirt (sometimes I just don’t have time to sew it, so please don’t give me that look. I know what you’re thinking).

When I walked home, I start to think about my neighborhood. It’s nice to know some of them. Walking around is always a pleasure. I can’t recall the same feeling when I lived in Jakarta. Busy neighborhood. Never get to know them. I am not lucky enough to live in a residence complex and got chance to know my next door neighbor.

I surely will miss this pleasure feeling when I have to back to Jakarta. I just wish I can get a place where this old saying will come true: Love your neighbor. They are your closest family.