In The Bakery

It was a busy Saturday morning in the coffeeshop, when I wheeled inside. From my wheelchair I could barely see over the counter; perpetually stuck as a ten year old. The one good thing about my perspective was that I had the perfect line of sight to the desserts. Being sickly thin and constantly shivering, I was used to strange looks wherever I went. I used to get self conscious, at the beginning, but eventually I learned to ignore people's reactions. I couldn't really blame them for staring at me; I would in their place.

I waited in line, impatiently tapping my fingers on my legs in a rapid staccato. All I could see was the man in front of me's beige trench coat, flirting with the barista, and impeding my access to my morning cup of brown gold. I needed to be to work five minutes ago, and I considered just giving up and taking the late marks, but I had already gotten so far. Thankfully while i was still debating whether I should say something or not, a woman behind me leaned around and in a very Karen-esque manner proceeded to say "Get a room or get back to making coffees, some of us have jobs to get to!" rather loudly, causing the poor barista to almost trip and fall over his feet getting my order. The man in s trench coat disappeared by the time I glanced around again.

'Karen' seemed self-satisfied now that the line was moving, but I shot her a nasty look for breaking up what could well have been a blossoming romance between the young fresh faced young barista and a handsome man almost a decade his senior. "Sorry for the wait. What can I get for you?" He asked, a blush still fading from his cheeks.

"I'll take a large full-caffeine double espresso latte with almond milk please." I said, craning my neck to see the board as if I didn't come here every morning ritually. Even after months of ordering coffee I still felt uncomfortable and I had to wonder at those people who could go up to the counter and order flawlessly. Usually bleach blonde young women with sunglasses that were too big and purses that were too small. I didn't like them much because instead of ignoring me like everyone else did, they openly stared and gave me wide berth, as if being disabled was contagious

It made me feel like a sideshow freak honestly, and I wanted nothing more than to lunge forward and scare them, but I didn't want to ruin the decades of w0rk that had gone into disability awareness and understanding. I heard my order number and wheeled forward to pay. Whilst paying, my eyes landed on a decadent chocolate cake with cherries ind sugared pecans dripping down the sides. My inner cupid, who had been lightly roused from his sleep by the 'Karen' interrupting the two men flirting, decided to step in at this point and gesture at the cake. "I want to buy a slice of cake for Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Handsome in the trench coat. From you."

The barista froze, trying to decide if I was trying to horn in on his man. I smiled nonconfrontationally, grabbed my coffee and left. He must have decided I was a non threat because his emerald eyes softened and he shouted a goodbye, Sweet caffeine flooded my body and my heart was lightened by the possibility of blossoming love getting a little push in the right direction. I'd find out Monday if my meddling did any good at all, or if I just made matters worse.