Tibetan Skull Cup

The man working the cart has a scruffy grey beard, a well-worn cap, and a youthful twinkle in his eyes, chatting amicably with the only customer. I get in line and look at the menu, listening as the espresso man chatters.

"…I don't make as much money doing this. People expect me out here, though, and its fun, so I come out."

The man's son is at the counter taking orders. He looks up at me. "What'll it be?"

I contemplate a double shot of espresso, but opt for something with more volume and less caffeine. "I'll have a coffee, please."

The boy pulls a textured paper cup—one of the bigger ones, I notice—and hands it to me. "That's a buck fifty."

I hand him two dollar bills. "Thanks."

The espresso man speaks with the grandstanding style of someone who'll talk to anyone who'll listen, continuing a previous conversation with whomever might walk up.

"…Most people work five days a week. I work one day a week and get six days off!"

I look at cards on the coffee pots: French Roast and Ethiopian Sidamo. The African one sounds interesting. I flip the handle and enjoy the sound of coffee pouring into the paper cup. I've always liked that sound, as well as the rich aroma that wafts from the tap.

The boy hands me two quarters as I turn to the condiments. "Thank you!"

"So what do you do during your six days off?" I ask with a raised voice as I pour sugar into my cup.

The man looks at me and pauses for a second. He looks down at the espresso machine where he's working. "I fart around."

He thrusts his chin toward his son. "Take him on long trips to the beach. Wakeboarding. Camping. At least, during the summer."

I don't add milk to my coffee, but I like a lot of sugar.

"So what do you do during the winter?" I ask, taking a sip from my cup. It's delicious.

The espresso man returns his gaze to the espresso machine, working the lever. "I eBay."

I raise an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yeah. I find stuff, fix it up, and sell it," he says, wiping his hands with a rag and looking to me. "I make enough to support me for the rest of the year, so I can work out here only one day a week during the summer. I go to garage sales and antique shops and estate sales during the summer, find all sorts of neat stuff In fact, I already have everything I need to sell for this winter already." He smiles. "It's a pretty good deal, if you ask me."

I nod, checking the time on my cell phone.

"I found this great thing once, a Tibetan skull cup," he continues excitedly. "It's this metal cup, with all these little skulls around it. They fill it up with oil and pour it on you when you're born. Then they pour some on you when you get married. And then, when you die, they pour it on your body. So it's with you your whole life."

I nod again. I really have to go. I smile, raising my cup to him. "Thanks."

"Sure thing."

I turn and walk away, taking another sip from the warm cup in my hand. The coffee is really good.