Rob the genius barista part II

He sat down at the piano and started flying scales up and down the keys, with all that boyish drummer-energy, and with talent so raw it took your breath away. I stopped reading. It took me a long time to realize he was just playing scales with a few variations, they were so beautiful. He seemed to hear beats in his head, and then challenge his fingers to keep up. There were changing rhythms and little add-ins and pauses when he was searching for the next note. Some of it was practiced, but some of it was experiment. All of it was gorgeous. I couldn't believe I'd just stumbled into this.

An older couple with two teenage boys came in and ordered lattes and churros with chocolate sauce (turns out it was a Spanish coffee shop). They sat down at the corner table with an extra chair from my table so there was barely room for Rob at the piano. I was afraid he'd be too shy to play so close to them, but when he'd served their food and drinks he sat back down and soon they joined me in my astonishment and delight.

The woman asked him how he'd learned to play like that. He attempted humility, kinda shrugged and answered, "I taught myself. Too much time on my hands, I guess." He explained that he's a drummer, and he figured, "the piano is kinda like drumming, you just beat on it." We all laughed. And he played on.

Justin came and I made him get a coffee. He read the newspaper clippings on the wall and reported back that not only was Rob amazing, but the coffee shop - Hernandez Cafe - itself was as well. Hernandez, the owner, was credited with bringing coffee to Sydney in the early 1970's. Before that he was doing quality control in the coffee industry in Spain. The cafe does their own blends and their own roasting on the premises.

It felt like a gift, stumbling upon Hernandez Cafe and Rob the talented barista-musician.

As we sat journaling and listening, a couple different customers came in who knew Rob, including the guy in the background of the picture. It almost seemed as if it was routine, that he came specifically to hear the music. He left a tip, which inspired us to do the same later on.

We stayed for at least two hours, and the longer we stayed, the more Rob talked to us. He told us how thrilled he'd been when he discovered a chord he could play the whole way up and down with three fingers. "People think music is really hard," he said, "but it's not, it's easy." He saw the music in the keys, the shapes and patterns. He didn't play with the graceful full-fingering of a trained pianist. In fact, he did kinda beat on the keys. Maybe that was part of the effect. Along with very open personality. Whatever it was, we never made it to happy hour. But the night had turned magic. I walked out a lot less concerned about my job search (and the feelings of inferiority that accompany it), a lot more settled in the moment. I left thinking, dear god, I hope that boy makes music everyday of his life, and that's enough. If he wants to party all night long, and serve coffee all day, that is fine by me. As long as he spends a part of each day sharing music with people, he will fulfill his purpose in the world. What more can any of us ask than to find that thing for ourselves?