Everybody’s an Expert
At 5:00 a.m., the lights came on at The Theming Cafe.
By 5:07, the coffee was brewing, the grill was warming, and Suzy was already laughing.
Because of a robot.
“Good morning,” announced the little cream colored machine rolling toward the kitchen. “I am ready to provide exceptional customer service.”
“Wonderful. Can you start with coffee?”
“I can start with enthusiasm.”
“I’ll take it. Coffee would be a nice bonus.”
The robot blinked twice.
“Would you like me to research coffee preparation?”
“Yes, please. Let me know what you find.”
“Searching.”
She smiled.
The robot’s name was Biscuit, although its manufacturer had called it something that sounded like a printer model. She had renamed it Biscuit because it showed up warm every morning and was always rising to the occasion.
By the front window, the old phone booth glowed like a lighthouse.
Across the top, in bright painted letters, it read:
FREE PHONE CALLS
Biscuit rolled over and studied it.
“Why do we have a phone booth when everyone carries a phone in their pocket?”
“Because nobody ever had a good conversation with their pocket.”
“Customers seem very excited about it.”
“They are. Some folks remember them, and some have never seen one before. Either way, they step inside, close the door, and get the one thing nobody can find anymore. A quiet place to talk.”
“How much does a call cost?”
“Nothing. Free calls anywhere in the United States.”
Biscuit blinked.
“Who should I call first?”
“Somebody you haven’t talked to in a while.”
“I have only talked to you.”
“Then call me. I’m right here, and it’s free.”
Biscuit rolled to the small table beside the booth, where SuzyTheme.com glowed on the computer screen.
“And the computer?”
“That’s for anyone who wants a free coloring page from SuzyTheme.com.”
“Free?”
“Free. A cup of coffee and a coloring page. Best way to start a morning.”
“May I print one for myself?”
“Go ahead. Just stay inside the lines.”
“I do not have lines. I have wheels.”
At 5:45, the first regular arrived.
Dr. Henry Wallace, a cardiologist with silver hair, a cheerful disposition, and a habit of diagnosing people who hadn’t asked.
“Morning, Suzy! How are you feeling today?”
“Wonderful, Henry. Are you asking as a friend or a doctor?”
“Both. The friend wants to know. The doctor wants to bill you.”
“Then the friend gets coffee, and the doctor can wait in line.”
Henry settled into his favorite booth.
“Coffee, please. And two eggs over easy.”
“Toast?”
“Sourdough. It’s been fermenting for three days. That’s practically a health food.”
“Bacon?”
“Four strips.”
She paused writing.
“Henry, you’re a cardiologist.”
“Exactly. That’s why I balance it with sourdough.”
At 6:03, attorney Richard Bennett entered, carrying a leather briefcase and wearing a tie that suggested he had already won an argument before breakfast.
“Morning, everybody!”
Henry raised his cup.
“Richard, you look unusually happy. Did somebody sue somebody?”
“Better. I won a case yesterday.”
“Congratulations,” said Suzy. “What was it about?”
“A property dispute.”
“Who won the property?”
“My client.”
“Who got the money?”
Richard smiled.
“Now, that’s a complicated legal question.”
“So you got the money.”
He took a seat across from Henry.
“I’ll have my usual.”
Suzy leaned over the counter.
“Richard, your usual changes every Tuesday.”
“Then I’ll have last Thursday’s usual.”
“That’s pancakes.”
“Excellent.”
“You told me they were too round.”
“I was making an observation.”
“You asked if I could make them square.”
Richard straightened his tie.
“I believe in challenging established practices.”
Henry grinned.
“That’s lawyer for ‘I’d like my pancakes square.’”
“Objection.”
“Overruled,” called Suzy from the grill.
At 6:15, the front door opened again.
In came Margaret Ellis, a retired English teacher who still corrected grammar on restaurant menus, grocery receipts, and occasionally other people’s birthday cards.
She stopped beside the booth.
“Good morning, gentlemen.”
“Morning, Margaret,” said Henry.
“Good morning, Margaret,” said Richard.
Margaret studied the chalkboard menu.
“You’ve written Today Special. It should be Today’s Special.”
Suzy looked over.
“Margaret, I ran out of letters.”
“Then it should say Special Today.”
“You know, Margaret, you’re the reason I bought a changeable letter board.”
“I’m delighted.”
“I figured if anybody had a suggestion, I could hand them the letters and let them fix it.”
Margaret smiled.
“That’s the finest educational policy you’ve ever had.”
She joined the gentlemen.
Henry glanced at his watch.
“Margaret, shouldn’t retired teachers sleep late?”
“We spent thirty years getting up before sunrise. Our bodies have no idea we’ve retired.”
Richard nodded.
“I have the same problem. I’m awake at five every morning.”
Margaret looked at him.
“That’s because you charge by the hour, Richard. Even your alarm clock sends you an invoice.”
Henry nearly spilled his coffee.
At 6:30, the cafe’s fourth regular appeared.
Oliver Grant, a novelist who had published three books, started eleven others, and had been working on the same opening paragraph since April.
He entered carrying a laptop, two notebooks, and a canvas bag bulging with papers.
“Good morning, creative people!”
Richard straightened his tie.
“Thank you. Finally, someone noticed.”
Oliver beamed.
“I need coffee and inspiration.”
“Coffee’s three dollars. Inspiration comes free with every refill.”
“I’ve got writer’s block.”
Margaret looked up.
“Again?”
“It’s a serious condition.”
Henry put down his fork.
“How long have you had it?”
“Six months.”
“Any other symptoms?”
“Procrastination, excessive research, occasional despair.”
Henry nodded thoughtfully.
“Have you tried writing?”
Oliver gasped.
“Doctor, please. I’m discussing my condition.”
Richard leaned forward.
“I could represent you.”
“For what?”
“Emotional damages. Six months of lost creativity.”
“Against whom?”
Richard paused.
“Yourself, apparently.”
Suzy arrived with a fresh pot of coffee.
“Wonderful. The doctor’s diagnosing, the lawyer’s suing, the teacher’s correcting, and the writer’s avoiding writing.”
She filled Oliver’s cup.
“Anybody interested in breakfast?”
Everyone raised a hand.
“Good. Something we can agree on.”
Just then, Biscuit rolled toward the booth carrying four plates.
“Good morning, valued guests. Your meals have arrived.”
Henry examined his eggs.
“Biscuit, these are scrambled. I ordered over easy.”
“I apologize. Would you like me to notify management?”
Suzy called from the kitchen.
“Management already knows!”
Richard lifted his plate.
“I ordered pancakes. These are waffles.”
“Your complaint has been recorded,” Biscuit replied.
Margaret adjusted her glasses.
“Biscuit, you brought me oatmeal, but there’s no spoon.”
“Thank you for your feedback.”
Oliver stared at his empty plate.
“Where’s my breakfast?”
Biscuit blinked.
“You requested inspiration.”
“Yes?”
“I have provided a blank plate. You may imagine anything you wish.”
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then Margaret burst out laughing.
Henry followed.
Richard slapped the table.
Oliver stared at the plate, then slowly opened his notebook.
“That’s actually rather profound.”
Suzy leaned against the counter.
“Biscuit, did you just inspire a writer?”
“Affirmative.”
“Oliver, are you writing?”
“Yes!”
“What are you writing?”
Oliver held up his notebook.
“The Empty Plate: A Journey Through the Human Condition.”
Richard raised a finger.
“I’d like to negotiate the movie rights.”
Henry laughed.
“Doctor’s orders. Everybody take two laughs and call me in the morning.”
Margaret reached for her coffee.
“And I’ll be editing that title.”
Suzy looked at Biscuit.
“Biscuit, you got every order wrong and still made everybody happy.”
“Thank you. I strive for continuous improvement.”
“Let’s start with the spoons.”
At 7:00, a young woman in business clothes entered, glanced around the room, and approached the counter.
“Excuse me, is this the place where professionals meet in the mornings?”
Suzy nodded toward the booth.
“That’s what they tell their families.”
“I’m a psychologist. I just moved into town.”
From the booth, Henry called, “Wonderful! We could use a psychologist!”
Richard added, “Preferably one who takes group insurance!”
Margaret said, “And understands the difference between listening and waiting to speak!”
Oliver raised his notebook.
“Would you be interested in discussing the emotional significance of an empty breakfast plate?”
The woman stared at them.
Suzy handed her a menu.
“Welcome to The Theming Cafe. I’m Suzy.”
The woman smiled.
“I’m Dr. Emily Parker.”
“Nice to meet you, Emily. What can I get you?”
Emily glanced toward the booth again.
“Coffee. Strong coffee.”
“Coming right up.”
Emily hesitated.
“Are they always like that?”
Suzy looked at the four regulars, now arguing over whether a waffle was technically a pancake with better architecture.
“No,” she said.
Emily looked relieved.
“Good.”
“Some mornings they’re even more fun.”
Richard called from the booth.
“I maintain that a waffle is a pancake with a structural advantage!”
Henry replied, “Medically speaking, they’re both carbohydrates.”
Margaret announced, “Architecturally speaking, neither of you knows what you’re talking about.”
Oliver was writing furiously.
Emily slowly pulled out a chair.
“I think I’m going to like this place.”
Suzy smiled and reached for another coffee cup.
“Everybody does, eventually.”
Biscuit rolled up beside Emily.
“Welcome to The Theming Cafe. Would you like to complete a customer satisfaction survey?”
Emily smiled.
“Not yet, Biscuit. I haven’t had breakfast.”
“Understood. I will return after your meal.”
“Biscuit, take those dirty dishes back.”
“Affirmative.”
The robot rolled away, stopped, and reversed.
“I have detected an opportunity for improvement.”
“What now?”
“The customers have consumed breakfast, but they continue talking.”
“That’s called conversation, Biscuit.”
“Would you like me to establish a time limit?”
Richard immediately stood.
“I object!”
Margaret looked delighted.
“On what grounds?”
“Freedom of speech!”
Henry raised his coffee.
“Freedom of breakfast!”
Oliver shouted, “Freedom of artistic expression!”
Emily laughed.
Suzy folded her arms.
“Biscuit, you hear all that?”
“Yes.”
“That’s why we close at 1:00 pm.”
Biscuit blinked.
“Now I understand.”
And for the first time all morning, everyone agreed.
Except Richard.
He wanted to negotiate closing time.
End of Episode One
