The Latte Legislator

A Short Story by Ben Saltiel

This Substack is dedicated to sharing my thoughts and insights on a variety of topics related to business, technology, finance, history, books or anything on my mind in a given week. This week’s article is departure from that as I decided to attempt writing and publishing a short story. This is the first time I do this so please let me know what you think in the comments below. If this is not for you, I have plenty of other articles for you to check out (see list below) and I will be returning to regularly scheduled programming next week. If you do like this and want to see more in the future, let me know and I might publish more in the future.

If this week’s article does not interest you, please check out some other recent ones:

Robbing Banks is a Rich Man's Sport

Why is Pilates Seen as a “Girl Exercise”?

Why I’m Quitting Coffee

Sorry Jocko, Discipline is Overrated

The Latte Legislator by Ben Saltiel

“Two large donkey milk lattes and an Americano for Michelle!” The Barista called out.

While placing the cups at the edge of the counter, they took a quick glance at the clock. It was just after 9AM, only 30 more minutes until the morning rush was finished.

The usual crowd of regulars rolled like waves of the ocean, unrelenting.

“Hey Bari, we’re running low on lids. I am going to run downstairs to grab some more, just in case. Cover the register until I’m back?”

The Barista quickly slid through the narrow space between counters and started taking orders.

The duo of creepy old guys that came each morning were waiting. The one that never tipped, ordered a cortado with charcoal milk, the other an espresso allongé. Lucky for Barista both orders were on the same bill and paid by the old creep that did tip. He added the customary 35% on top of the $82.41 owed for the two beverages and smiled.

“Thank you gentlemen! It will be right up at the counter shortly! Help yourself to some water at the back in the meantime”

The Barista quickly placed two cups under the spouts of the espresso machine and tapped the necessary buttons. The machine started grinding and dripping the liquid into the cups. The Barista grabbed the carton of charcoal milk, added it to a frother, pressed the button to start it before turning to the next customer.

It was the friendly young woman that worked in marketing or whatever who said,  “Hey Bari, it’s busy this morning. What time did you get here? 6? I hope things calm down for you soon. Could I please get a large iced skinny vanilla latte with ivory cream? Thank you! Yours are always the best!!”

“Sure thing! The Barista said as they whirled the payment terminal screen towards her. “That will be $53.21.” The Barista returned to grab the cups from the machine, put them on the counter, and called out “charcoal cortado and Americano for Dale!”

The next forty-five minutes continued like this, The Barista barely noticed. They had entered a flow state, each movement and interaction was perfectly calculated, not one second was wasted and they skillfully kept the line moving, while pleasing the customers. It felt like hours and days could fly by without noticing when they were in this state. 

As the morning rush dissipated, the Barista’s mind began to wander. Six years working at the cafe, almost two entire degrees. With graduation coming up in a few months, it was finally time to decide the next move. Continue on to a PhD or enter the job lottery? They weren’t really passionate about anything they were studying, and the prospect of school for another 8 years didn’t really appeal to them. On the other hand, they’ve heard so many horror stories of friends getting stuck with awful jobs from the lottery. You can only enter the lottery twice and if you hate your career, there’s nothing you can do about it. This uncertainty made them nervous. Thinking about the future always made them uncomfortable but deadlines were inflexible and coming up.

As this silent debating continued in their head, the door opened and in entered a well-groomed middle aged man wearing a suit that was neither cheap nor expensive and a watch that was only borderline obnoxious. He approached the counter and asked:

“Would you happen to be The Barista?”

The Barista cautiously confirmed that they were.

"Great, my name’s Martin Anderson, but you can call me Marty. I’m with the Mayor’s office. I’ve been hearing great things about you lately. I wanted to run something by you, do you have a few minutes to talk?”

The Barista, not sure what to make of this, replied “The Mayor’s office? Well, happy to talk but my break isn't for another hour. Any chance we can speak then?”

Marty “Yes, yes of course, not a problem. I’ll come back around 11:30. But in the meantime, any chance I can get a peach espresso?”

After Marty had left, The Barista could not help but wonder what he wanted to talk about. The Barista was not politically engaged. Of course they voted, in some national elections, if they could find a friend willing to go to the polls with them. Besides signing a few online petitions people sent them, they never did anything that should have caught the attention of the mayor's office. What could they want with a twenty eight year-old with degrees in AI Ethics and Climate Resiliency Science that still lived at home with their parents?

The hour seemed to fly by, The Barista’s replacement came for their shift, and in walked Marty.

It was a nice day, they chose to sit outside on the cafe’s terrasse.

Once they sat down and Marty began with some small talk. “Excellent weather for this time of year. A very cool 95F (35C) for November is rare. It probably helps that they aren’t doing any construction in this part of the country .”

The Barista nodded along politely, still not sure why Marty wanted to meet.

He then suddenly looked intently at The Barista and said “As you know, the Mayor, who has been in office for the past four years announced that they weren’t going to seek reelection when their term ends in a few months. The Mayor wants to spend more time with their family and feels that they have accomplished all that they wanted while in office.”

Martin took a quick glance over his shoulder then leaned in and whispered “It also doesn’t help that their approval ratings have been in single digits for the past two years and none of the donors are willing to fund another campaign but primarily they are stepping down for family reasons.”

The Barista nodded along, still not understanding what this had to do with them.

“The rest of the team and I saw this coming. We are assigned to work in the Mayor’s office, regardless of who wins, but naturally we would rather have a mayor who we feel will best represent the city's interests.”

The Barista agreed that it made sense. A couple of regulars passed by and exchanged greetings with The Barista as they walked into the coffee shop.

Marty took another quick look around to make sure that nobody was listening in.

“Given the current state of the economy, crime and the city's own financial difficulties, we have had a hard time getting the more obvious choices to run for office. As a result we’ve been running some polling data, and we uncovered some startling findings.”

Marty paused and stared at The Barista, enticing a comment.

The Barista playing along asked “What did you find?”

Marty cleared his throat

“The populace's confidence in government and institutions has been on the decline for a while but as of this year, April 2041, only 10% of citizens have any confidence in the national government to help improve their life. It’s not much better for the State or regional governments. Ever since the feds nationalized most of the private sector 15 years ago to deal with rising unemployment and inflation, citizens don’t really see much of a distinction anymore. At this point, the only institutions that poll well are fast-food chains, craft breweries, massage parlors/beauty salons and… independent local cafes.”

With this Marty paused and looked up at The Barista.

The Barista replied “I think I saw something like that on Apple News. That’s a tough spot you must be in. Do you guys need us to endorse one of your preferred candidates once you find them? I can ask the owner, they don’t normally get too politically involved but maybe if you do like a campaign event here or something they would be open to it.”

Marty chuckled “No, that wasn’t quite what I had in mind. In addition to the polling, we did a few focus groups with likely voters and time and time again, when we asked them which person in the city did they have the most trust in. It was your name that came up.”

The Barista turned slightly red “Oh that’s very nice. How kind of them. I still don’t follow though.”

Marty looking at The Barista “Nowadays people have more confidence in their local barista than anyone else. This is why we need you to run for Mayor. ”

“I’m sorry, run for what?” The Barista asked

Marty was not laughing this time. “Bari, we want you to seriously consider running for Mayor. In every simulation we ran, you won by double digit points. Not only do we know that you can win, we think your candidacy can help re-invigorate people’s interest in local politics. Only 15% of people voted in the last election. Our models think if you ran, this could jump to at least 30-40%.”

The Barista shook their head. “Okay, very funny. Is this some kind of joke? Did Greg put you up to this? I know he would get me back for that thing I pulled at his birthday.”

After it was clear that Marty was serious The Barista, still in disbelief said “Look, I don’t know what questions you asked and what weird numbers you put in Excel but I can’t run for Mayor. The Mayor is like the most important community organizer and I can’t even organize a game night. The last time I tried hosting everybody bailed at the last second, except for Bridgette but she’s low key obsessed with me.”

Martin was gentle but unrelenting. “Look, I know this is coming out of left field but we’ve put a lot of work into this.” He took a thick booklet out of his bag and set it on the table in front of them. The cover said Candidate Profile: The Barista September 2041. Opening the first few pages, he pointed to a series of impressive charts and graphs. Martin continued “You can see, we put a lot of thought into this. We even hired McKinsey. This booklet and supporting documents come from them. It’s not as crazy as you think. Increasingly the electorate doesn’t want to vote for established politicians. Few can keep consecutive terms and more and more you are seeing less conventional candidates starting to catch a vein. Do you know who Kelli Johnson is?”

The Barista, still startled, thought for a second. “Is that the girl that used to dance for Ariana Grande? She got pretty big on Instagram at some point. Whatever happened to her?”

Martin nodded. “Yes, her. Well she won the Illinois Senate seat last year. I don’t think she could even name the 3 branches of government before she won. It didn’t matter. It’s not different in other countries either. Norway has just gone with Olympic skiers for their last two Prime Ministers. More and more we are seeing voters don’t want politicians, just people that they like or have confidence in.”

The Barista “Yeah, well I still can’t be Mayor. Isn’t that a pretty important job? Can’t I really mess up the city if I don’t know what I’m doing?”

Marty patiently explained “The fact is, the role of Mayor is largely ceremonial now. Ever since they passed the “Get Back Your City” executive order a couple years back, the feds are pretty much in charge of most things. In any case your first term’s budget is already committed. You would only need to worry about that if you would make it to a second term.”

Martin standing up. “Look I know this is a lot to take in all at once. You don’t need to decide now, the registration deadline is in another couple of weeks. Just promise me you’ll think about it. I’ll come back and check up on you later in the week. Keep the booklet, go over it. My contact info is in there if you want to speak sooner.”

They shook hands and Martin left, leaving The Barista stunned, alone with the Booklet. Mind racing, trying to digest everything they just heard. Mayor. As the lunch rush began, they started seeing many of the regulars who happily greeted them as they walked by into the cafe to order. They picked up the booklet, began flipping through the pages, carefully reading the polling data.

As Marty had said, the numbers made a compelling case for the Barista to win; becoming mayor was a real possibility. They continued to read about the election process, the restrictions and requirements of the role and the administrative agenda for the next four years. The Barista imagined themselves as mayor, sitting in the big office and attending important functions. Having a full team of people that work with the sole focus of making life better for all the local citizens. 

Looking up from the booklet, the Barista looked through the window and observed the customers of the cafe. There they were sitting with their friends, children, dogs, or even alone. They seemed happy, comfortable, and at ease. The Barista sat silently for a moment, then rose, picked up the booklet and dropped it in the trash as they walked back inside the cafe. As soon as they entered through the door frame, the mood of all the customers immediately brightened, making each of their days just a little bit better.

A thank you to Tom White at White Noise for serving as editor and sounding board for this piece.

(^ Not the Barista)