The Java Chip
It’s one week before the 2012 presidential elections and the Harvard Square Starbucks is electrified with excitement. In the People’s Republic of Cambridge, this Starbucks is a political sanctuary. The old wooden door swings open, admitting both intellectuals and common folks to the sanctuary of discussion. The room was packed to capacity with all sorts of people; professors in bow ties and chalk-dusted tweed jackets, hipsters with expensive computer gadgets, and men in black turtlenecks with circle glasses reminiscent of Steve Jobs. I found myself here because I had a few minutes leisure time and astonishingly, was able to find a vacant chair by a window. My plan was simple; to enjoy a cup of my favorite coffee, turn off my brain, and revel in the white noise until it was time for my next class.
As I was sitting there, I couldn’t help but notice a couple sitting at the table next to me who appeared to be on a date that was rapidly turning into a train wreck. Let’s refer to them as Ted and Lauren. “Environmental sustainability is all that matters in this election! This isn’t the time to cut EPA regulations!” Ted proclaimed, gesturing flamboyantly and talking louder than appropriate for public setting. He was wearing black horn-rimmed glasses like the NASA mission control circa-1961, and a mauve burly sweater with a strategically placed leather decal that said, “100% Fair Trade Wool.” “Well have money to clean up the environment when we put everybody back to work,” Lauren scoffed. She was a raven-haired girl with black yoga pants and bright blue eye shadow. Her perfume occupied a ten-foot radius and her body language was growing increasingly hostile. She was clearly uninterested and unimpressed with his conversation and didn’t make an effort to hide the fact.
I was blatantly eavesdropping on their conversation, spying from behind the screen of my laptop as the melodrama unfolded. Ted and I caught eyes and a friendly smile spread across his face, revealing a massive java chip stuck between his teeth. I felt bad for the guy, but who orders a non-fat venti soy java chip frappucino on a date? It was horribly conspicuous and the poor guy had no idea. Lauren clearly noticed and could see nothing else but the java chip obstructing an otherwise handsome smile. Her attention was divided between her phone and the java chip, her eyes darting between the two.
“So what do you like to do for fun?” he asked with a wide, toothy smile. This question seemed to throw her for a loop. She puttered for a moment, searching for a chic answer, but instead settled with “hang out my friends and go out dancing and stuff.” “That’s awesome! I like to do that too,” he tagged with glowing eyes. Their conversation followed in a series of inane questions until they had exhausted their go to list of first date conversation starters. A long silence commenced. Lauren looked at her phone. Ted looked at his watch. If the moment were any tenser his glasses would have fogged. “I’m going to hit the bathroom,” he awkwardly added while making a Fonzie-style checking gesture with his hands.
While he was in the bathroom Lauren made a hushed phone call to some mysterious person, begging them to come get her. “I am at the Harvard square Starbucks. Please, I just need to go,” she frantically whispered, furrowing her maroon, stenciled eyebrows. Ted returned surprising fast, smiling apprehensively when they met eyes, and Lauren quickly hung up the phone. The java chip was gone. Ted must have noticed it when looked in the mirror.
Both of them knew about the java chip, but refused to acknowledge it. There was no way to address it politely and the time for chuckles had long passed. The poor guy slumped in his chair with embarrassment. Realizing the futility of the situation and the danger of being late for class, I gathered my belongings and prepared to leave. “I guess this is romance in the modern age,” I thought to myself with a shrug.
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