Fellini Coffee: A Glimpse into the Heart of New York City

Working in a café in New York was one of the most transformative experiences of my life, and I feel that everyone should go through it. What started as a simple job ended up being a profound lesson on humanity, dreams, and the challenges of this great city.

My coworkers were not just colleagues; they were extraordinary people, mostly immigrants or artists, each with their own story. They lived in New York with the same longing as I did: to fulfill a dream in an unforgiving city. Dancers, musicians, actors, each battling their reality while we worked together, serving wine and coffee. There were days when the pressure overwhelmed me. As a shift leader, I wanted everything to work perfectly: to organize the coffee shop, to see that everything was clean, to have good sales, that people had a nice experience and didn't have to wait, especially during the busiest hours. On top of that, I had to deal with upset customers who claimed it was illegal not to accept cash, and explain to them that those were company policies. Not only that, I also faced the frustration of some coworkers who insisted it was illegal for managers to take a share of the tips. All of this, combined with the daily pressure, can overwhelm anyone, and I admit I sometimes lost my patience. But over time, I learned that cultural differences and the sensitivities of each person matter more than a shift without mistakes. Although I didn’t end on good terms with some coworkers , I sincerely hope they achieve their dreams because I know that, like me, they are also striving for something greater in this city full of opportunities.

That café, with all its imperfections, gave me my first friends in New York. Amid the chaos of work, we formed bonds that went beyond work hours. It wasn’t easy, but there were moments that made it all worth it. Like when our customers, with their kindness and loyalty, reminded me that this city is also full of warmth. I served famous stylists, business owners, and actors like Brandon Flynn, whom I recognized immediately but pretended not to know to avoid getting nervous. I wondered if he noticed my effort to stay calm while taking his order. The regular customers in this neighborhood called Chelsea always greeted me with a “Hi, Bryan. How are you” They knew my name, and I felt bad for not remembering theirs, as I served so many customers every day. Some literally came just to say, “I came to say hi and see how you were.” Those simple gestures filled me with joy and made the hard days more bearable.

One moment I will never forget was when Grace Coddington, the fashion icon, walked into the café. I was struck by her simplicity and humility. She brought a smile to my face when, with charming ease, she said she didn’t need utensils to eat her pizza. That encounter reminded me that, despite how frantic and overwhelming this city can be, even the most iconic people can be incredibly simple and human.

However, it wasn’t all glamour. New York is also a city full of contrasts and extremes. We regularly dealt with homeless people seeking shelter, sometimes just a chair to rest or something to eat. And then there were those we called “the crazies,” people who came in shouting or acting unpredictably. Sometimes we had to handle these situations calmly, other times firmly. It was a part of the city you couldn’t ignore, that walked through the doors without asking and reminded us how raw life can be here.

Of course, not everything was so nice. The café faced serious problems. Infestations of rats and flies that never seemed to go away, a dishwasher that was always broken, an oven that wouldn’t heat, a front door that never worked properly, and then there was the owner. We knew his name, but he never formally introduced himself to each of us who truly kept the place running. There was no real connection, just orders from afar, decisions he made without truly understanding what was happening in his own business.

The constant changes were also exhausting. Every week there was something new: changes to the menu, the ice cream section was implemented, new employees every week, new managers, and even a time when we didn’t have a manager. It was the long-standing employees who weathered that storm, trying to keep everything afloat without direction. Things started improving when the last manager arrived. It was a breath of fresh air. He cared about us, listened to us, was neutral, took problems seriously, and even solved issues on his days off. I hope they’re paying him all the overtime he deserves because without him, things wouldn’t have gotten better.

One of the greatest pleasures for me was being able to make my customers happy. I loved surprising them with small gestures: treats for them or their dogs, or little details on their birthdays. I would find ways to create something special and see their smiles on important days. Those moments made all the effort worth it.

But among all the customers, I’ll never forget one in particular: an eccentric fashionista who came in with his cute dog named Hudson, like the river next to this great city that is New York. At first, he drove me crazy. He always complained, either about the service, the employees, or other customers. It was frustrating and exhausting, but over time, I began to understand his humor and realized that, behind that critical facade, he had a good heart. With patience and tolerance, we built a connection, and slowly, he became part of my shifts. He shared details about his life, introduced me to his daughter and colleagues, and although many of my coworkers couldn’t stand him because he wasn’t easy to deal with, to me, he became a special customer who will be hard to forget because of his antics. He had his flaws, like any human being, but I discovered that beneath his demanding exterior, there was someone generous and genuine. I always thought that, with how much he spent at the café monthly, he could have opened his own.

One day, however, something happened that deeply moved me. A child came into the café selling candy. He was alone, walking through the city, and it almost brought me to tears. How could he be alone in a city so big, so imposing? My coworker and I offered him something to eat, but he declined, probably thinking we would charge him. He only said, “I want water because I’m really thirsty.” It broke my heart to see him walk away, once again walking through those vast streets. New York is like that; it can be grand and devastating at the same time. It makes you feel alive, but it also reminds you how vulnerable you can be.

And speaking of water… I’ll never forget the time the owner got upset with me for not offering him a glass of water. Imagine, in the middle of the chaos of a day where the morning was so busy that there wasn’t even time to refill everything necessary for the evening service, he decided that the most important thing was that I hadn’t asked if he wanted something to drink or if I had cleared the dirty plates from a table. As if that was the only thing I had to do at that moment. I was organizing everything to make the job easier for everyone because I knew what was coming later. But, of course, he had no idea what was really happening. It was as if he lived in another world. He never approached his own workers to ask if everything was okay. He never did, and I don’t think he ever will because, honestly, to me, his behavior seemed more like a New York diva than a true leader.

Another absurd aspect of working for him was his obsession with dimming the lights at a certain time, regardless of whether we were in the middle of the madness of a shift. It didn’t matter if the café was full of customers waiting for their orders; the lights had to be dimmed. While we dealt with pests like rats and flies, what seemed to concern him was creating the right “atmosphere.” The disconnect between what was happening day to day and what he thought was important was frustrating, to say the least.

Despite everything, I always cared about the well-being of my coworkers during my shift because the physical work was brutal; bending over again and again to serve coffee from the ice cream area wrecked our bodies, and I truly hope that all my former coworkers’ backs are okay. No matter how hard you try and how good you are at your job, when the owner has the wrong perception of you, it’s as if none of that matters. In New York, where life doesn’t stop and everyone runs without looking back, you realize that no matter how many hours you work, how many problems you solve, or how many smiles you give to customers, if the person in power doesn’t understand the reality of what we face daily, they simply discard you without giving you the chance to prove otherwise. It’s frustrating, but it’s a lesson this relentless city teaches you: effort isn’t always enough, and sometimes the value of what you do is only understood by those who were there with you.

Working in that café transformed me deeply. It taught me that life is a constant balance between personal effort and the expectations of others, and that recognition doesn’t always come, even when it’s deserved. I learned about resilience, the importance of empathy, and how, amidst the chaos of such a vast city, small moments can have a lasting impact. Even so, you just have to keep moving forward, learning not to rely on the approval of others and valuing what you do for yourself. Sometimes, the true victory lies in not allowing the wrong opinions of those who don’t know your struggle to define you.

That coffee shop was not my final destination, but it was a crucial stop on my journey. New York, with its chaos and beauty, has given me so much more than I ever imagined.