Sunbucks Cafe

[Garrett Jax]

I slowly opened the door to the Sunbucks Cafe secretly hoping no one was there. I checked my uniform. I had rookie written all over me. My uniform was way too pressed and my badge was way too shiny. Why am I here, I asked myself. I hate coffee. I hate coffee worse than donuts. Maybe I will just get a warm cup of cocoa. Nobody will laugh at me for drinking hot chocolate. Who am I kidding? They will all laugh. They will all point at me and chant, "'Seymore drinks hot chocolate. Seymore drinks hot chocolate."
I stop and shake myself out of my paranoia. Remember the therapy, Seymore. Nobody is going to care one iota who you are, much less laugh at you for something as stupid as drinking hot chocolate in a coffee store.
I walk a few steps into the cafe. I count about a dozen officers huddled in pairs, talking to each other in hushed tones. No one even looks up to see me. That's good. Be as inconspicuous as possible. I find a small table stationed as close to the front door as possible. With all the subtlety I can muster, I take my seat.
At least, I tried to take my seat. I misjudged the height of the chair and ended up pushing that stool halfway across the cafe, metal legs screeching against tile floor. I fall down, banging my head against the glass window, knowing that my worst fears are realized. Every eye in Sunbucks is upon me. Officers rush upon me offering aid. Dazed and groggy from the blow to my head, I relunctantly accept their assistance.
The largest man I have ever seen in my life reaches down and picks me up like I was made out of paper mache. He dusts me off, pats my back and asks me my name.
I try to talk but the words refuse to come out. They are going to laugh, I know it. The officer checks the back of my head and asks if I'm alright. I finally spit out a response that I'm fine. With a weak grin, I apologize for the accident.
"No need to apologize, young man," he bellows. "Let me get you something to drink. What'll you have?"
I try to swallow the lump in my throat. With a voice barely above a whisper, I respond, "Hot chocolate, sir."
He gestures over to the counter, and in a loud booming voice, commands the waitress, "Get a cup of hot chocolate over to this...What did you say your name was, boy?"
I cringe, "Seymore, sir. Seymore Justice."
"Get our newest recruit, Seymore Justice, a cup of hot chocolate."
I wait for the inevitable laughter that always follows my name, but there is none. Everyone has genuine looks of concern on their faces; care for my well-being. Slowly, I start to feel more confortable about my career. Maybe these people are different. Maybe they are more mature. Maybe I can start to be myself and these people will like me for who I am.
I receive my hot chocolate and for the first time, unleash a wide smile. I thank the huge officer for his help and shake hands with the rest of my fellow police that are there. I walk toward the door to leave thinking that I made a good decision to join the LPI. I could see these people actually being my friends. They care about me.
I walk out the door confident in my future, secure in who I am. Just as the door was about to shut behind me, I hear one of the officers say, "Seymore?" The whole store erupted. I had to run two full blocks before the sound of laughter finally died away.

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