Morning Coffee

Sitting at Cafe du Globe this morning, I indulged a bit. "Madame, un autre cafe s'il vous plait? Merci." Two coffees. My tired brain needs them both today. And just after she brings me the second cup, the sun sleepily lifts itself above the mountain crest to my left, stretching its affectionate rays down my little street, warming the table I write on, the light dancing just on the rim of my coffee cup. Sigh... This is exactly what I needed this morning. A little brightness, and some me time to recharge and prepare for another day of serving people and being told what to do.

Sometimes I don't mind my job at all, but on days like yesterday, I just get irritated--really irritated. Standing on La Terrace during my shift, my hands folded formally behind my back, I look longingly at the people walking along the lake a few floors below, wishing I was the one on vacation and not the one serving the entitled (or at least many guests think of themselves that way). But then, one or even a couple customers express their sincere gratitude for something as simple as replacing their used ashtray or refilling their half full glass of wine and I'm happy again, stripped of the contempt I was feeling only moments before. And occasionally when I'm really lucky, a fellow American comes in for lunch or dinner and we exchange a few words, connecting over our homeland and a common accent. Yesterday night, his name was Barry, a business man from Indianapolis in Montreux for two days. We only talked for a few minutes, but his kindness was instantly contagious and I felt like me again. Walking away I couldn't help but think just how far a warm smiles goes, and a few nice words to go along with it? Well sometimes, it means the world.