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Starting again -- I have a new gig: I am a barista.

Which means that I serve coffee of all varieties, drip-brewed and espresso-infused and beyond, plus also fresh-squeezed and -ground juices, and hot chocolates, and fruit yogurt smoothies, and ice cream, and muffins and biscotti, and whole and ground coffee beans. And chocolates of various variousnesses. It is quite complicated to be a java slinger these days.

I started this about four weeks ago.

As I’ve mentioned previously on these pages, I spend whole huge chunks of time at Cummings Candy and Coffee on Main Street in Butler (web page on the way). About a month ago, one of the morning coffee specialists quit on short notice, and Barry Cummings, who runs/owns the joint, asked if I would be interested in working behind the counter.

Some relevant facts: I have never worked in the food/beverage industry. Ever. My hourly rate working in web design is nearly ten times the hourly wage for a barista (even in small town America). Baristas make more in tips than you’d expect, at least in the morning shifts. Not that much more. I am on a smile-hey-how-are-you basis with much of the Cummings morning clientele. I’ve been friends with Barry for a few years. I get little that is constructive done in the mornings, but love to get up if it means hanging out with folks. I have been sorely in need of structure at my particular life stage. I love coffee and all its variants. I’ve long thought that I’d make a good barista. I know how to foam milk. I could use a steady source of income just now.

(On the structure bit: Working for myself and working for my family’s company, the thing I’ve missed most is accountability. There’s always the final accountability to the client, but I find that I like team efforts, group due dates, and reporting to other people at least now and then. Weird but true.)

So, I told Barry that I would like to give it a shot for two months. At the end of that period, he or I can say ‘enough’ and he’ll have time to find a more permanent replacement.

And so far it’s going terrifically well. I love the hecticness of the morning coffee shop atmosphere. The regulars order the same things every day. Many don’t even know what they’re ordering: They’ve been getting the same thing day in and out for years, and can’t say what size drink it is or even what it is. Others know exactly, precisely what they get, and make clear want they want.

I’m bad at remembering names, and the barista gig so far is much about names. It’s more about coffee drinks, but if one can remember names or at least details, one can cover for forgetting a drink.

So, people have been generally kind about my newness at the job. A few are tense at having their daily cup delivered by people who clearly don't yet know what's going on.

Barry, who bought the establishment from his dad and is fully committed to making it work, is cautious about adopting new stuff and fully committed to providing an excellent customer experience. He's also my age, and a rocking dude who makes the most of family and community commitments. It's easy to sign on to his plans.

People have had varied reactions to my new gig. Really varied. I’ll tell you more about that soon too.

I’ll continue to report on my experiences as they evolve, including the very interesting and (I think) gender-driven tipping protocol. But I must alert you to two other bits of coffeehouse reading:

Le Sonique highlights the barista perspective, wherein one acts as psychologist on a morning-by-morning basis, and

John McIntire of City Paper presents the latte-liberal viewpoint.

Bonus for subscribers to The Economist: an excellent article from last year about the role coffeehouses played in commerce in the 19th and 20th centuries.

You’re not going to sleep already, are you? I’m not tired at all. Hey, I wanted you to see this thing...where was it....Wait, have another cup while you’re waiting. On me.