July 29, 2019
Service is the cornerstone of nearly every job that exists on our tiny blue planet. Yet, there remains a clear hierarchy between what's considered ‘dirty service’ and what's deemed as ‘esteemed service’. A human rights attorney? Esteemed. A criminal defense lawyer? Dirty. The real butt of the joke? Who gets the bigger paycheck.
I’ve personally maintained a part-time job as a barista from university to struggling artist. The easiest point of direction for the cafe is "Near Tower Bridge." However, what Wapping is best known for is its historical ties to the London’s docks. During the 18th century, the docks traded luxury goods - ivory, coffee, wine, and tobacco. The local pub, The Prospect of Whitby, dating back to 1520, is allegedly London’s oldest riverside tavern. And Wilton's Music Hall? A raucous concert hall that was originally an alehouse and once the heart of the local Victorian-era prostitution scene.
But in the year 2019, Wapping is homely and quiet. Its short High Street boasts a butcher, post office, pharmacy, and grocery shop.
Wapping is also home to luxury flats and often hosts big-budget film productions. With Graham Norton and Helen Mirren as local residents, it's no surprise to find a team of stuntmen waltzing around, or casually hear about a film featuring Jeffrey Dean Morgan being shot down the street.
I’m constantly meeting fantastic creative people who drop by our shop to catch their breath, enjoy a good cup of Joe, and recenter. But my, oh my, is it an interesting position to be both a barista and a film graduate. People are like open books, and many don’t consider how they treat others when they’re the ones being served.
A few weeks ago, a girl came in and ordered three oat mochas. From her order, I could tell she was buying for a group of other girls working in a nearby studio, part of the make-up department. I strike up a conversation, and she’s friendly, telling me where she’d studied to become a make-up artist. It gets a little busy, she sits down. I move quickly to finish the order and turn back to her. I am thrilled to have recognized her university and try to make further conversation. I mention how, by coincidence, I produced a short film with students from her same university this year. But she cuts me off, finger in the air, her invisible force pressing against my lips. Without looking at me, she says, “Sorry, but I’ve got these emails to write.” The line’s been severed - status imposed. I’m taken aback but smile. A few minutes later, she leaves without so much as a thank you.
Days later, Josh O’Connor walks in and orders a caramel shortbread. The coffee shop is fairly quiet, and I take my time to study his face, unsure if it’s really him. Finally, I say, “You look a lot like that actor from The Durrells.” He smiles, slightly embarrassed, and shrugs, “That’s because I am.” I beam, handing him the shortbread. He laughs, leaves me a tip, and wishes me a lovely day. I swoon with joy. Aha, the human element restored!
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