watching a cafe work cups stacked in a six or seven towers each twenty tall newcomers falling into line as they have before knowing the drill paying with bills or more often cards nowadays that move around the right numbers to motivate the workers to show up in the morning and do their jobs well outing coffee over ice opening black fridge doors beneath the counter that reveal glowing white interiors full of milk and other vital morning sustenance putting lids on cups for to-goers and grinding more beans clicking cash register keys sliding glass doors that both keep pastries fresh at the same time as having them be on display for customers choosing pointing through the glass that one no that one to the left right there yes the gurgle of the frothy milk foam spout steam and more beans grinding customers waiting with their arms crossed waiting for their cup to be called and then smiling stepping forward the operation running smoothly like choreography for a play where everyone has rehearsed their parts well and act candid as if it were not a shower but really real life so the hunger and thirst seems real and they are genuinely excited to receive their coffee or bagel but relaxed not so serious like they might not eat otherwise knowing there is another cafe next door but casually and expecting it having gotten used to a life of nearly guaranteed survival that the world of order has created which makes cafe choreographed machines possible