I'll have one coffee and a slice of life

Amidst the whirring and clattering of the espresso machine, two girlfriends are trying to hold a conversation. They are sitting in a small coffee shop, with walls decorated by local artists. Odd creatures resembling part hippo, part bear are painted in deep, primary colors and are splashed randomly throughout the café. Soft hip-hop fills in whatever silence the espresso machine allows. The smell of roasting coffee beans and heated soy milk wafts through the air, creating an intoxicating aroma for patrons.
The two girls are sitting atop high stools, swiveling in half circles as they sip their hot drinks.
“I needed this so badly. I only got four hours of sleep,” the girl with the shorter hair says. Her friend nods in sympathy. Both wearing SJSU sweatshirts, the girls look like regular college students mulling over the lulls and stress of school.
Across the room from them, a couple is sitting on a plush, velvet sofa, each nibbling on muffins. He has sandy colored curls that seemed to have been brushed up by the wind. They are friends with the barista, who leans over the counter to talk with them. There are no other customers waiting in line, so each party is able to carry on their conversations without the interruption of an opening door.
As the girls gather up their purses and books, a lone customer walks in.

"The usual?" asks the barista. The man nods and takes out his wallet. He sees the open stools and takes a seat to wait for his coffee. And the whirling and clattering begins again.