The Barista Bares All

Well, it finally happened. The long-anticipated and much talked about plans to renovate the Marlow coffee counter suddenly came to fruition. It's a big change. A fast working speed depends on and demands habitual motions which inevitably run off course when things move around. But the sleepless night that our beloved Jeremy and his team put in hammering, caulking and drilling, did leave us with a radically improved (if less nostalgic) workspace. But what it took to get us there is another story.

I walked to Marlow's Wednesday morning to see a big paper sign on the door: written with chalk in that signature Cheffie scribble I read:

Due to some much-needed renovation,
Marlow and Sons will open mid-morning.

It was then that I knew this was no ordinary morning. This assumption was confirmed when I opened the door and almost tripped over a box of screws. The place was a mess. The new counter was installed, but the plumbers were still working on hooking up all other water and electric lines. It smelled like melting plastic from the plumbing glue they were using, and I had no idea why I was there prepared to serve coffee. Mid-morning? We'd be lucky to open the place for dinner!

I walked through the store, weaving my way around tool boxes, displaced store goods and the work crew. "Does this mean I can go back to bed?" I asked Caroline when I saw her. The answer was a firm NO, and I soon realized why. All of us there who weren't part of the work crew were to take this "perfect opportunity" to clean. Fantastic. With that, we each found a job to do. Colin ambitiously set to work washing the outside top windows, while Mercedez and I cleaned plastic spoons and coffee beans from behind the register area.

Around 9am things were as hectic as could be. The plumbers still weren't done, the bakers had muffins and scones piling up in the kitchen, and at least five people were directed out of the store after they obliviously stepped up to the disarrayed counter and ordered a latte. One dude even walked around the table that guarded the door, stepped over a huge box of tools, and ripped up the cover to the drink cooler to grab himself an Odwalla orange juice. We stood and watched him in disbelief until he came to the counter to pay.

"Um, we're closed, man," somebody told him.
"Oh, really?" He sounded a bit cool. "Well, ya'll got your aprons on. How was I supposed to know?" Never mind that we're obviously under construction. This was hilarious, I'll have you know. Another lady looked like she might cry when I told her we weren't serving coffee.

"No coffee?...oh no!"

Around ten thirty, we had people calling us, asking if we were open yet. "Just five minutes" was Caroline's overly optimistic response. The working crew was now gone, but we didn't even have any coffee yet and the place still smelled like a shoe factory. The darling candy section had to be stocked, all the shelves had been cleared so we could clean them and the store's dry goods were scattered everywhere. Meanwhile, a certain boss of mine (we won't mention names) was walking in and out of the place, commenting on the fact that we weren't open yet.

But somehow, we managed to do it. By 11am mostly everything from behind the counter was in place, and we let in our first customer right around 11:05. Though getting the store in shape was hard, the rest of the day wasn't exactly easy. Stainless steel counters and a new location for the espresso machine take a lot of getting used to. However they're so easy to clean! Nothing like that butcher block wood that took several scrubs to getting kind of clean. Now we just wipe everything down! And with the espresso machine in its own little corner there's no more rubbing-asses with the person trying to scoot by to get a croissant. What I can't believe is how much we put up with before: limited space and storage and battling constant coffee grime. There are a few things I will miss, however: the delicate sidestep one had to do to avoid spilling a cappuccino, or the strain I'd feel in my shoulders each time I pulled the woebegone freezer from under the old wooden counter. But yes, I say "Well done!" to those of you who made these changes possible. You just made our job a whole lot easier.

by Lindsay Debach

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