Cafe-Girl: A Tru Story

Act Two Scene Three

Interior: Cafe, The next morning

(Tru and Willow are workind behind the counter.  Willow is training Tru on the espresso machine.)

WILLOW

You've done this before, so it shouldn't be hard to pick it up again.

TRU

Done it before....

WILLOW

Yeah at the cafe with Matthew?

TRU

Matt.

WILLOW

Yeah, the Coffee Boy, right?

TRU

Right.  Him.

WILLow

Does that make me the coffee boy too?

TRU

Coffee Boy Too? Coffee Boy Two? Coffee Boy Two point O.

WILLOW

Coffee Boy Take Two.  Better this time around.

TRU

I hope so.

WILLOW

What's that?

(The door chimes that it has opened. Denise,A woman in her early thirties, approaches the counter.)

Can I help you?

DENISE

Yeah, a cup of coffee to...oh, hello Deborah.

TRU

Its Tru. I go by Tru now.

DENISE

Is that right? How come?

TRU

Because...its a long story.

DENISE

Isn't it though?

WILLOW

Here's your coffee, to go, right?

DENISE

Yeah. That's right.  I don't want to stay.

WILLOW

That'll be 2.15 please.

DENISE

Here's 3 dollars, keep the change.  And best of luck to you.

WILLow

Thanks!

DENISE

You'll need it.

(Denise takes her coffee and exits coffee shop.)

WILLOW

Well, that's kinda weird.  What the hell do you think that was all about?

(Tru is silent.)

I mean, I'll take the luck but, um, why?

TRU

She...was Matt's sister.

WILLOW

Oh, um, all right.  So?

TRU

So?

WILLOW

So, why do you go by Tru and not---

TRU

Deborah.

WILLOW

Yeah, that's a pretty name.  You know what it means?

TRU

Yeah I do, actually.  We all looked our names up once.

WILLOW

We?

TRU

At the old coffee shop--

Flashback: A younger Tru, no dreadlocks, sits at a patio table with Matthew, James, Shaggy, Thomas, and Ray. Its a very small patio, basically the front entrance of the cafe itself, with one table surrounded by a stairway, a wheelchair ramp.  The gang sits either at the table (seats two) or sits on the railings.We get the feeling that its been a week or two since Tru and Matthew's first meeting.

TRU

So, Matt?

MATTHEW

Yeah?

TRU

What are you up to?

MATTHEW

I'm working.

TRU

Hardly.

MATTHEW

Do you see customers coming in?

TRU

Yeah, that's not really a good thing, is it?

MATTHEW

Depends.  I mean, I'm getting paid right now and I'm just sitting here, right?

TRU

Yeah.

THOMAS
So, Debi, you got plans tonight?

TRU

Debi? I prefer Deborah, but to answer your question

(She looks at Matthew.)

I don't know yet.

THOMAS

Because there is this bible study tonight and...

TRU

Um...

MATTHEW

I think we were going to hang out tonight, weren't we, Deborah?

TRU

Oh, yeah, that's right. We were.

JAMES

Bible study? I used to do that, when I was a kid.  My mom would drag me to her church.

THOMAS

That right?

JAMES

Yeah, she was Methodist.

TRU

Was?

JAMES

She passed.  Last year.

TRU

I'm sorry. Really I am.

JAMES

Its fine.  She's in a better place, truly.  Anyway, she had this name meaning thing in the back of her Bible.  Used to look through it.

TRU

What's your name mean?

JAMES

I don't know, I forgot.

THOMAS

I think I got that in my Bible.

(He pulls his Bible out of his bag, opens it, flips to the back.)

Yeah, here it is.

JAMES

Okay, what does James mean?

THOMAS

(reading)

James Boy's name meaning, origin, and popularity. ... A classic boys' name derived from the Hebrew name Jacob. It means "supplanter," one who follows.  Heel grabber.

JAMES

Heel grabber?

THOMAS

Yeah, Jacob and Esau?

JAMES

Oh, right.  Jacob have I loved.  James have I loved.

TRU

Someone's full of himself.

JAMES

Past tense: James have I loved.

TRU

Past tense?

MATTHEW

Okay, anyways, do me now.

TRU

Do you now?

THOMAS

"gift of YAHWEH", or gift of God.

MATTHEW

Nice, I'm a gift.

TRU

I like it. So, what about Deborah?

THOMAS

The name Deborah is a Hebrew baby name. In Hebrew the meaning of the name Deborah is: Bee.  Also, says the meaning is simply, "She Knows."

TRU

I'm a bee that knows.

SHAGGY

Knows what?

TRU

I don't know.

SHAGGY

So, what about me?

RAY

Yeah and me.

THOMAS

There isn't a Shaggy. But, Thomas...means twin.  So, like is there another version of me roaming around here?

RAY

I sincerely hope not.

THOMAS

Very funny.  Your name isn't in here either, by the way.

RAY

Yeah?

THOMAS

Oh, wait, there it is.

RAY

Really?

THOMAS

Yeah.  It says, "king of the lawn gnomes", also "smelly, drunk hippie".  Huh? So accurate.

fade into: Present Day.

WILLOW

Huh? So, why did you change your name anyway?

TRU

Change it? Its still there, I just go by Tru.

WILLOW

Okay, but why?

TRU

Eh.  You ever see Hamlet?

WILLOW

Yeah, awhile back.  Why?

TRU

Matt and I found this cheesy version on TV once.  We started quoting lines from it to each other.  I remember one he used to quote to me all the time, I can still hear him clearly saying it in my...heart...

Flashback: Matthew standing in front of Tru.

MATTHEW

To Thine Ownself Be True.

Fade into: Present day.

WILLOW

Huh.  Guess that makes sense.

TRU

Yeah.  So I try to live by that.  My name is just a reflection of that, I guess.

(Tru picks up dish rag and starts wiping down tables around cafe.)

Its slow today.  Not good for business.

WILLOW

Just like---

TRU

Yeah.

WILLOW

Wait a minute, you said "was"...Was his sister.

Fade out.

Life In A Coffee Shop

In Which I Thank You

Life in a Coffee Shop

As a life-long feminist, I never thought I'd actually be thanking a guy, let alone a bunch of guys for my coming of age as a woman.  But, here it goes.

One of the life-changing events of my life happened at a small-town coffee shop in the year 2003, yet it was a time outside of the linear time-line of my life.  True, I could map out it out with the other noteworthy events from my life, high school prom, graduation, college graduation, the year I spent at a coffee shop, my Christian conversion and subsequent aversion, and on it goes.  But, looking back, this time of my life was a stolen season of life, a time outside of regular existence.

In that place, that coffee shop, a magical existence transpired. And, I'm not romancing it as often is done when looking back in the past.  It was a time of turmoil, both in our country and in my own personal life.  Our country had just declared war on Iraq, for some weird reason, as a result of 9-11, and aptly put I was falling in love.  (It seems strange that in times of turmoil on a global level, my love life soars, but there it is.)

In a very real way, I was pulled in many directions.  My friends at the Christian church were influencing me to leave my friends at the coffee shop, while my friends at the coffee shop were, understandably, wounded by that but in the end just living their lives as they saw fit.  Looking back, the beliefs of fundamentalist Christianity was more disastrous upon my life and my relationships than any other association.  But, I digress.

At the coffee shop, I found a group of friends that loved me unconditionally and without judgment.  In retrospect, having them in my life has been more of a far-reaching influence upon my spirituality than any form of organized religion.  They not only taught me about love but heart-break, being true to myself, living in the moment, trusting in something outside of yourself, and in fact taught me that I do have worth.  They believed in me for who I was and the abilities they saw within me.  This is true even if they have been scattered across the far-reaches of the state and left me behind.  After all, it was a time out of time, a stolen season of our lives.  I only hope in the depths of my heart that I gave them some of the same.

It makes it even more poignant that not only did the coffee shop, aka Grizzly Peak Roasting Company, close down after we all moved away, but the city eventually tore down the building entirely and put up a brand spankin' new building that bears little resemblance to the original building.  So, all the memories stored up in place, the graffiti we scribed in some places, for example, are lost to time and stored up in the recesses of our memory. (I may have some actual pictures stored somewhere too.)

But the lessons learned, as I mentioned above, still live within me today and for always.  The magic of that season of my life lives on inside me and for always.  Nothing has equaled it since, nor ever will.  Although recent events have come close, they still vastly differ.

Recently, I went hiking, well, I am a dog-walker so its a common occurrence.  But, this particular day stood out to me.  It reminded me of all the hikes I took with my Grizz boys, the ones where we would break from the trail and just climb, sometimes on ground that was not stable, we'd just climb and explore.  I always put some form of trust in them to keep me safe on those adventures and to guide me home.  On this recent hike, I went by myself, with the two dogs, and like those hikes of old we climbed and followed some form of animal trail as far as we wanted to go.  When I reached the end of that trail, I came upon a country road, then looking around I wondered how I was to get back.  I started back down another trail, with the dogs, and kept walking, somewhat fearfully because I wasn't sure where I was going.  I thought of my Grizz boys, the fun times we had while hiking, the good and not so good memories, the trust I had in them.  And, then something happened.  I made my way out of the woods and back to a place where I could find my way back from whence I came.

This was an amazing moment.  I had done it myself.  I could finally trust in myself to make my own way.  Without my Grizz boys, showing me the way and showing me how back in the day, I would never have learned that I had the strength inside myself to find my own way out of the woods, my own way in the world.

And, thus I did.  And, for this, I thank them.

Now, in a figurative sense, I'm making my own way in the climb of life.  I recently launched a production company, known as Cafe-Girl Productions.  And, once again, I have my Grizz boys to thank for that.  Not only because my time hanging out with them at the cafe helped shape my identity as the Cafe Girl, but because it is because of their belief in the fluidity and spontaneity of life, the belief in the ability of self to endure and keep at it, that I can move forward with all of my endeavors.

And, thus I do.  And, for this, I thank them.

Falling in Love at a Coffee Shop

Cafe-Girl: A Novella

Deborah placed her cell phone smack dab in the center of her unmade bed. She stared down at it, willing it to ring, and when nothing happened she flipped it over, disgruntled and sat heavily upon the floor of her rented bedroom. She leaned against the bed and hung her head. Her go-cup coffee that she had purchased from Matt just a half an hour before, but which seemed like millions of eons ago, sat dejectedly on her chest of drawers, getting cold. She stared at it, willing it to float over towards her, so she wouldn't have to rise from her slumped position, depression stretching inward upon her like a familiar yet unkind friend.

Suddenly, the phone rang. She leaped up, almost as if her whole body rose into the air, and reached for it. The number was unknown, as in not listed in her friends, but the area code was familiar. Her heart raced as she pressed the button to answer.

“Hello?” she called out. “Hello? Hello?”

But, no answer came. “Is anyone there? Who is this?” she implored more forcefully, with a little bit of spice. “Stop clogging up my phone by calling and calling!” And, she hung up with a ferocity and threw the phone across the room, it ricocheted off the dresser, knocking the coffee cup over, and fell to the floor as the cappuccino liquid slipped down her dresser to the carpet below waiting to be stained Was this a sign of something? Some signal, a truth, of things to come, of her pouring her life and heart away on some guy who would not come through yet again. She sighed and moved to right the coffee cup and begin the process of soaking up the liquid before it stained, wiping the drips off the dresser. It was probably just her crazy ex-boyfriend after all. God! She groaned. Won't he ever ever leave her alone?

In the coffee shop, Matt, however, was not trying to avoid calling her or laughing over her goof of thinking his flirtations were anything more than a barista trying to garner some tips, but was being simultaneously distracted by the conspiracy ravings of Shaggy, the mixed rants of conspiracy and crazy ex of James, and Ray's urging that once he get off work they go get some beer and begin their version of “church”, rather where they all hike as far as they can go into the surrounding mountains, sip their 40s, smoke joints, and sort of meditate, sort of explore where ever they are led. Inwardly, he was hoping for one moment of peace between all this to call Deborah, to hear her sweet voice, hear her laughing jokes echoing his back to him with mirth and merriment.

“9-11 was an inside job,” Shaggy was exclaiming. “Bush and the CIA, Daddy Bush, planned the whole thing in order to make the masses feel fear and vulnerable, in order to keep us under their control--

“My ex made me feel vulnerable,” James mumbled and when they all swung around to look at him, he added, “She was a crazy bitch, slept with everyone in town, right?”

They nodded. They'd heard the story what seemed like a thousand times a day it seemed. Sometimes James seemed like a broken record, begging for anyone to listen, to feel some sort of pity for him. Matt wondered about him, sometimes. He himself had left a crazy ex that had in fact cheated on him numerous times but recently he had found peace with her and moved on. And, James it seemed, after discovering the likeness of his story with Matt's, wouldn't let it go. Matt wondered why but couldn't ascertain the answer to that question. He shook it off yet again, hoping James would find the peace and answers on his own someday.

Ray was pulling at his shirtsleeves, metaphorically, like an anxious young child, wanting to know “are we there yet? are we there yet?” Matt looked at his funny friend, long straggly reddish-auburn hair, gnatted with dreads scattered about the threads of his hair, a nose red and large from too much of the drink, a frail build from living the hard life, too many drugs, not enough good food, a ski-cap propped upon the top of his head, and grinned at Ray.

“Hey, Ray,” Matt began. “Has anyone ever told you, you kind of look like a lawn gnome?”

Shaggy and James looked over at their friend, Ray and nodded, laughing.

“Yeah, you do,” joined in Shaggy. “But you are tall so like, king of the lawn gnomes!”

They all laughed mirthfully.

“King of the lawn gnomes!” They all cheered and the three of them bowed to Ray, who extended his hand in deference and approval. It was right then that Barbara, the remaining new girl, walked up and stared confusedly at their actions before her.

“What the hell?” she exclaimed. “What the hell is going on?”

“What the hell does he look like?” exclaimed James right back, and Matt cringed. Sometimes James seemed harsh to women, he didn't know why.

“Um, Ray,” Barbara said, slightly wincing and moving towards the door. Matt leaned into her and whispered in her ear, 'Lawn gnome', she turned back and looked Ray over.

“Oh my god, yeah,” she laughed.

“He's the king of the lawn gnomes,” explained Shaggy.

“Bow down!” commanded Ray and Barbara gave him a little curtsy. She hurried into the coffee shop to begin her shift and Matt followed her to officially clock out.

“Not to busy today?” Barbara asked, turning to him, with a smile. He smiled back, somewhat reluctantly. He wasn't too attracted to this girl, she was a little on the plump side and a little too pushy when it came to the area of love for his taste, always trying mostly unsuccessfully to push her way into his world, his line of view.

“Nope,” he said. He grabbed his time-card out of his cubby and scribbled out the time. Placing it back, he grabbed his coat, knapsack, and hat, putting it on with a flair of a 1940s movie star, that which he was unaware of the affect he had on the opposite sex. He nodded, hat on head, pulling his jacket on, swinging his knapsack on his shoulder, and turned and walked towards the door towards his awaiting friends.

“All signed out?” asked James. He nodded. Shaggy shook his head and Matt felt an oncoming rant of conspiracy about to spew forth.

“Its just sad that the government, or the forces behind, have us so wrapped up in being a number in order to give us more meaningless numbers in a computer that we use to--”

“Yeah, we get it,” barked out Ray. “Let's get some beer before I start to puke.”

“His majesty has spoken,” said Matt, smiling somewhat apologetically at Shaggy.

They all headed off, following Ray, in a single-file to the nearby minute market.

While his team, his rag-tag friends, busied themselves with the all too important task of picking the right beers for the trek inside, Matt leaned against the outside wall and pulled out his phone and the napkin with Deborah's phone listed on it. He found it interesting that for some odd reason her number seemed to already be in his “outward” calling list, but he did not have any memory of calling her. He stared down at his phone, debating inwardly whether he should call her, whether he had the time, what his friends would think of her, if she really liked him, if she was even single. All these questions filled his mind as he stared down at the screen of his cell-phone, the number, for some reason already dialed, before him. The door of the minute market dinged open and Ray exclaimed, “Mission Accomplished!”

Matt slammed his phone shut and stuck it forcefully in his jeans pocket.

“All set?” he set to his somewhat giddy friends. They nodded. “All right, Ray, Your Majesty, lead the way!”

The hike wound them up farther and farther into the forests and wilderness above the city. Matt looked back over his shoulder, over the city that he knew so well, where every corner, every alleyway echoed a memory of so many years, and thought of her, tucked away in some room, some apartment, some home, he knew not where or which, and longed for her. He wondered, he hoped, if they had a chance, if he could finally end this quest to find the one, to end the emptiness of longing for love and understanding. Would it ever end, he wondered, when would he have his happily ever after?

Life In A Coffee Shop

Cafe Girl: A Story of Coffee, Sex, Cigarettes, & True Love

Life In A Coffee Shop

Act Two, Scene Four

(Deborah alone, center stage, spotlight, as she talks the cafe is lit slowly behind her)

Deborah:

I started going to a coffee shop recently. I never thought I'd be a cafe girl, you know, but I always wanted to be. Maybe, that's what life is all about, going after what you want. But, I thought you had to wear all black, smoke cigarettes, look morose all the time, and talk about dark things. In fact, there is a guy like that.

(Lights up on James, sitting on patio at coffee shop behind her.)

Yeah, he's just like I would have imagined. Dark hair, dark clothes, dark eyes...eyes. (muses) I think I am going to call him 'scary dark boy'. Then, there is Matthew, who my boyfriend, he's cute with this amazing red hair

(lights up on Matthew sitting across from James)

Such a "cute coffee boy". He's all right, but I don't know where the relationship is going. A girl needs to know these things. At least, he's not the ex-slob. Matthew's dealing with similar crap with his ex. This friend I have, she's always talking about the need to find a husband. I guess we are 'husband hunting', feels kind of under-handed, you know. Love. Marriage. Life.  What's it all about?  I can't help but think or hope, I can do some good for them...and maybe them for me. Who knows?

(ponders)

Every time I come to the cafe, there they sit on the patio, Just sitting. Waiting...for me? Or something, what? What are we all waiting for? Minutes slipping by...take the chance, to love. Isn't that what life is all about? What life is worth? So, there they sit, waiting and when I see them, waving.

(lights out on Deborah, lights fade in on cafe.)

Cafe Girl: A Story of Coffee, Sex, Cigarettes, & True Love

Life In A Coffee Shop

ACT TWO

(The lights rise on coffee shop, center stage. In the foreground, on stage right, we see the exterior of the coffee shop, a very small porch with a single table and two chairs, a railing for a staircase with a wheelchair ramp beside it. Through that we enter into the coffee shop, divided into two rooms, with a small partition between. On stage right is the main coffee shop room, with four tables with two sets of chairs, at the back of that room, a fire-place and a computer, before the time of wi-fi. On the right side is the counter with the espresso machine and registrar beside it. A tray of large freshly made muffins lays on this, visible to the audience. One table in the foreground, at the back of this room is an entrance to the kitchen. At rise, lights slowly come up on empty coffee shop. Matthew enters from the audience and the light follows him, the song plays, as he makes his entrance into work. He crosses right to front door of coffee shop, unlocks door, then enters. He crosses to kitchen and switches on musak. He begins silently preparing shop for day, taking chairs off tables, setting out muffins, turning on computer. The musak skips, Matthew walks towards kitchen, he jumps, and musak resumes. He walks back to where he was, the musak skips, he walks back towards kitchen, jumps, musak resumes. This goes on a couple more times. One beat.)

Matthew:

(He flips sign to open.)

Everyday the same.

(stops looks out the audience. He heads up to fire-place and begins preparations to start fire. His back is to the audience so he does not hear or see when Deborah enters a beat later.)

Deborah:

(waiting a minute, then)

Hello?

Matthew:

(turning)

Oh, sorry, didn't know you were there? Hi.

Deborah:

You work here?

Matthew:

Doesn't it look like it?

Deborah:

Kind of, yeah.

Matthew:

Can I get you something?

Deborah:

I hear you roast coffee here.

Matthew:

Yeah?

Deborah:

I was thinking of getting a pound of something. Or...

(She follows him left to counter.)

Matthew:

Okay, what do you want?

Deborah:

I don't know. Its for my room-mate. She drinks coffee, I don't. Really.

Matthew:

We'll have to break you of that.

(Their eyes meet, both laugh.)

Deborah:

Really? We'll see about that.

Matthew:

I can be very, convincing.

(They laugh again nervously.)

So, what'll it be?

Deborah:

What's your favorite?

Matthew:

Ah, yes. Well, I like moka java.

Deborah:

I'll have that one.

(He grabs a bag under counter and sets it on table.)

Thank you. I'm Deborah, by the way.

Matthew:

Nice to meet you, Deborah. I'm Matt.

Deborah:

Nice to meet you too.

(Their eyes meet.)

Matthew:

Um, that'll be 12.99, um, you get a free cup of coffee with that, want it?

Deborah:

Well, I don't know.

Matthew:

This could be the start of something new.

Deborah:

You're determined to make me a coffee drinker!

Matthew:

Well, I'm a barista, it's kind of my job!

Deborah:

Is this all you're determined to do?

Matthew:

Maybe, Maybe not.

Deborah:

(after a moment)

I'm going to need it. Heading home for the holidays, right now.

Matthew:

Oh.

(He pours her a cup, in a to go cup and rings up transaction)

Deborah:

So, what are you doing for Christmas?

Matthew:

Well, I have to open here, but then, not much. I'll just be around town. Parents live close by.

Deborah:

Oh, you a townie?

Matthew:

You one of those students?

Deborah:

Maybe I am.

Matthew:

Deborah.

Deborah:

(confused)

Oh, right. Here.

(She hands him a twenty dollar bill and while he gets change, pulls a pen out of her purse)

I'm driving over the pass, do you think it'll snow?

Matthew:

Oh, definitely. Its going to snow buckets tonight.

Deborah:

Do you think I need chains?

Matthew:

Yeah, be good to pick them up. 8 dollars is your change.

(She takes it, in one hand, puts in her pocket, then reaches for his hand again.)

What's this?

Deborah:

(holding out pen)

May I? If you get bored over the holidays, call me. I'll be back in four days.

(writes number on hand.)

Matthew:

Okay, I'll do that.

Deborah:

Talk to you later?

Matthew:

Yeah. Bye for now.

Deborah:

Bye.

(she exits.)