years and years of coffee drinking, beginning with the chocolaty mocha (so that i could sit, fourteen years old, at the coffee house and not be laughed at with my juice and/or hot chocolate) and peaking with morning shots of espresso at la saletta, and until three days ago, the oohlala cafe au lait had completely escaped my notice. maybe it was a subconscious aversion to the oohlala-ness of the drink, or the recollection of mammet's "cafe au lait and a cigarette...my balls were like concrete" understanding of human sexuality that kept me from summoning my most delicate tone and request this most delicate beverage.

but now i'm on the train. only thirty cents more than a regular coffee and it's full of steaminess and foam (but not too much -- i hate too much) and then how many people do you know that order the cafe au lait in lieu of the a)breakfast blend or b)latte cappuccino concoction?

paint me red and call me a croissant. i just love it.

this particular morning i was sitting with my cafay oh lay and the debut fiction new yorker reading about russian sex ed and the experience of having multiple houses (by david sedaris) and i hear this "good morning" spoken directly into my ear. i knew before i turned around that i was being spoken to by a stranger, and my guard went way up, as it does when strangers approach me at eight thirty in the morning. i looked at him with what i'm sure must have looked like a mixture of surprise and preemptive disdain. "no one says that anymore" he continued, "and i thought i would bring it back." what struck me as i looked at this forty something man was that i couldn't discern intention. for a split second i thought maybe this man actually just wants to say good morning to a stranger, maybe he's sick of all this impersonal non-interaction interaction, maybe he's fighting society's most numbing trend. and, as if to prove that he was, in fact, doing just that, he walked directly out the door, coffee in hand, and didn't look back.

i was not alone in my indecision. a young mother stood a few feet away clearly as confused as i was. we watched him walk away, then laughed, she shrugging her shoulders, me shaking my head. whatever his intention, the non-interaction interaction barrier was broken, if not with him. if i see her again tomorrow, stoller and bowl of coffee in hand, i may just continue his work.