Old Faces

“Bella, how you been?”  He kept a running conversation with the line-up remembering every little nuance of his customer’s usual. 

As I took the Daily News from below the counter and put two dollars down to pay for the coffee and paper, I responded, “Fine”. 

His gnarly hand clasped mine passing me the coffee in the same instant.

 “You look wonderful!”  he laughed, “Old faces don’t go away, they just resurface.”

The Coffee Guy has been a part of my daily routine for years.  His face is indelible in my memory, as he remembers my milk with one and a half sugars even after I’ve been away. 

I remember an individual from over 20 years ago who walked with a strut.  One day, as I hurried back to work, I saw that walk ahead of me.  It was sort of a sloping gait.  As I caught up with him at the corner where he was waiting to cross the street, I saw his face.  I doubt he remembered me.  We did not speak.  He was still a smoker and his face had the same beaten-down look but older.

My coffee guy was right, old faces don’t go away, they just resurface.  I would have remembered that strut anywhere.

OTOLI