Epic

 In the course of my evening walk yesterday, I decided to turn left at the gas station rather than right as usual. This brought me eventually to a little local coffee shop called Epic Coffee, or rather, as they spelled it, epique, lending from the French a certain air of sophistication which could not have been otherwise achieved by the dim and spartan nature of the cafe itself. 

As I walked in, the staff, consisting of three young women, girls really, who had at the moment been engaged in examining their phones, jumped up in a chorus of happy greeting, seeming surprised that anyone, let alone a bule, had entered the store. 

I announced in their language that I would like to order a coffee.  

"Coffee?" one said, seeming stunned somehow, as if she had never heard the word, or at least as if no one ever came in this coffee shop and actually ordered coffee. 

"Yes. What kind do you have?"

"What kind?"

"I mean, you know, what are my choices?" 

Her mouth hung open in a pleasant smile. 

Forthwith, one of her friends came to her rescue by handing me a menu.

My 'Ah!' was followed by giggles. 

"This one," I said," pointing to the top entry. "The latte." 

"Latte?" 

"Yes, right here, see--the epique latte." 

"Ah!" 

"I'll sit outside," I said. 

Observing the movement of the girls from this point forward, one might have guessed they were actually tied together by some invisible cord. Everything they did, they did together. They, the three of them, emerged from the cafe to bring me a napkin and an ashtray, retreated back within, and then emerged again after some time with the epic coffee and two less than epic cookies. They smiled together, they bowed together, and then once again retreated together, as if retracted. 

I don't know that I'd call the coffee 'epic', but I can say that it was better than I'd expected it to be. And at only 14.000 rupiah, you can't beat the price.