located in the best neighborhood, most of the folks I'd met so far seemed pretty innocuous. Little did I know that was about to
change.
My manager was traveling so I knew the tiny two-person office would be empty. I had almost reached the stairs to the office
when I heard someone cough behind me. I whirled around and saw this very tall, very large man walking slowly toward me. I
wasn't particularly worried until I saw the wooden baseball bat he had in his right hand. Warning bells went off! I backed up a
few steps. "Can - can I help you?"I asked with great trepidation.
He answered in a deep, crusty voice, "Well, missy, I ain't sure if this here's the place I'm s'posed to be at." As he spoke, he
waved the bat toward me. Confidence is not exactly inspired when a large, shabbily dressed stranger waves a potential
weapon in your direction. I audibly gulped.
In wavering voice I said, "This -- this - is the Restitution Office."I kept backing up. He kept walking forward.
"Huh?" he said, frowning. Frowning was not good. I could see that frowning was not something he enjoyed doing so I needed
to do something about that very quickly.
"You know - like where you come because the judge tells you to and then you don't have to go to jail."
The frown eased. I sighed. He nodded. I tripped my way up the stairs and breathlessly unlocked the door. The staircase
audibly groaned under his weight as he trudged up behind me.
As the man entered the office I gave him a trembling smile and gestured toward the worn, brown sofa across from
my tiny desk. He frowned again. I could see this wasn't going to be an easy morning. "Coffee?" he growled.
"Oh, no problem!" I practically launched myself at the coffee maker in the corner of the office. "I'll make some. I'll make
some right now!"
Now, I don't drink coffee. I have never liked coffee. Thus, I also have no idea how to make coffee. The coffee maker
in the office belonged to the manager. After getting over to the well-worn machine, I had no clue what to do. I recalled
that there was something required like a filter so I looked for that. Fortunately, there was one under the counter.
I could hear the man breathing from the sofa. It was unnerving. He still had the baseball bat. It was lying across his
knees as he sat waiting for his coffee. I layered in some coffee grinds. I wasn't sure if I had put in enough so I added
a few more scoops. I poured in the water and started the whole thing up. I prayed it would be decent coffee.
Now I had to deal with him. I walked back and forced myself to smile at him. "Just need to do a few things and then
we can talk about your case-"
"I don't talk before havin' coffee"; He growled. The frown was there again.
I didn't have an appropriate response to that so I mumbled, "Oh. Okay."
I sat down at my desk. The coffee maker burped. It was the only sound in the office other than the heavily breathing
man and papers rustling as I opened up my files. I exhaled slowly and then asked him, "Sir, can I just get your name?"
"I jus' tol' you, I don't do nuthin' before coffee!" He bellowed. I jumped in my seat. Now he was glaring at me and
frowning.
"Okay - okay," I said nervously, "That's cool." At that moment, he reminded me of my mom in the morning. It was
coffee before anything, including conversation. Because of my childhood, I could relate to that - but I sure wished it
was my mom sitting there rather than the"Bat-Man" - the name I had mentally named him. Silently, I prayed for the
coffee to please hurry up.
A few minutes later, the coffee maker seemed to be making 'I'm Done!' burping noises. I checked and it looked like
there was coffee. Relief flowed through me and I poured some into a Styrofoam cup. It seemed a bit syrupy but
maybe that was a good thing. My mother and father always like their coffee like it was "made of lead."
Tentatively, I walked over to "Bat-Man" and handed him the cup. He took it and sniffed in the steam gratefully. Then
he took a sip. The next few moments were so freaky, I still recall that I was riveted to where I was standing.
"WHOOOOEEEEEE!!!!" The man yelled and jumped to his feet.
My eyes must have become as big as saucers. I was sure I was about to die. ";WHOOOOEEEEEE!!" he yelled
again. I started to stagger backward but he grabbed my hand. "Girl!" he hollered, "That is some coffee!"He swung
the bat around his head as I watched, completely frozen in shock. Then, just as quickly as he had lept to his feet, he
sat back down and looked calmly at the cup in his hands.
After a few moments of stunned silence, I found enough courage to whisper, "So - so, it's okay? You like it?"
"Ma'am," he said in perfectly cultured English, "This is a fine cup of Java." Then he gave me a blissful smile.
I don't know if it was just getting coffee into his system or there was some kind of psychological need to have coffee -
but his personality totally changed after that first sip. It was the most astonishing thing I have ever seen. The man
became a completely different person. He answered all my questions in an intelligent, thoughtful manner. I did the
paperwork, he signed. He was perfectly happy and cheerful - there was no growling or frowning or bat-waving. To
this day, I have no idea what happened.
Maybe you coffee-drinkers can tell me!