The cafe is completely empty besides the three employees in the back. Only the sound of the History Channel streaming from the television above the register fills the room. The floors are a beautiful redwood, shiny, new. Everything is in place but not everything matches. A combination of Pier 1 Imports products and random coffee signs scatter the café amongst a few Oregon Ducks banners. Small potted Palm Trees occupy most of the corners. It feels new and not completely into place yet.
Halloween is on its way. The Palm Trees are draped in decorative spider webs. Small, clear, plastic bats are strung across the register they continuously blink purple, green, purple, green.
Autumn potted flowers are placed around the café, one near the register one in the sitting area. The area is big, almost too big. There are 21 two people tables but most are pushed together to seat four.
A chalkboard fills up the whole top half of the wall behind the register. Written on the chalkboard in pink, blue, green, white is the menu, different kinds of wraps and coffee drinks. Wraps are named things such as The New Yorker, The Donkey Load, and The Oregon. They sell a few different types of muffins but for the most part only sell wraps.
Three employees, one woman and two men, walk from behind the counter back to the kitchen. Back and forth, back and forth. They seem to constantly be bickering but in a fun brotherly/sisterly way. I over hear the younger of the two men, who wears a goatee, Oregon Ducks hat and a tattoo on his neck say, “99% of the time I don’t know what I’m thinking about so how could you possibly know what I’m thinking” as he walks out the door to smoke a cigarette.
The café has a different feel to it, more alternative than other cafes. A mix between a coffee shop and a tattoo parlor. The employees wear matching black shirts with a coffee cup stencil on the back. Both the woman and the men curse in almost every other sentence.
Hiccup. Hiccup. The woman who seems to be the owner or part owner jokes about how they are so busy in between the hiccups she has caught.
Still there is no one in the café.
The cafe is located on the corner of Broadway and Charnelton in Downtown Eugene. The entire front of the cafe is glass which lets in the beautiful colors of autumn.
The History Channel questions, “Are humans themselves actually aliens?”
“If I had a dollar I’d have a dollar,” sings the larger of the two men while slicing tomatoes that he places into a blender. Thunk, thunk, thunk, the knife hits the counter with every slice. He is making guacamole.
A middle-aged-man in a dark green jacket enters. They all seem to know him. He hands the woman a small box that holds their new gift cards.
Soon after a DePaul Security officer enters and orders three South Western Medley Wraps. Soon the skillet is sizzling and the smell of eggs and peppers fill the air.
Both men take their meals to go.
Two middle-aged-women stop by the door and read the menu look up at the Sine Cura Café sign and continue to walk.
The café is completely empty as the employees rush to move their cars from the Meter Maid. Then take a few moments to share a smoke.