My name is Karen, and I am a practicing member of Metairie's own Coffee Cult. My membership in this unknown yet undeniably unique cult began when I was just 16. Previously, I held a job at the local frozen yogurt place, but I applied to the coffee shop when the fro-yo joint was sold and became a sushi restaurant. Although I knew some of the workers at the coffee shop, I had no idea that I would soon be part of their selective Coffee Cult.

Within the first month, I discovered that these people were unnaturally close to each other. Even though this diverse group ranged in age from 15 to 40, they all found time (and by time I mean one to three days a week) to get together and blow their paychecks on dinner, movies, or some other form of entertainment, despite seeing each other every day at work. My first attendance at a secret cult meeting was in July at a local bowling alley. ­Although some members welcomed me, it was some time before I would officially be initiated.

In addition to their extraordinary gatherings, the Coffee Cult has also created some of the most original sayings I've ever heard. “Blatant disregard,” ­“irrelevant,” and “truth bomb” are just a few of the many mottos that almost every Coffee Cult member has uttered at some point. Learning to decipher their strange yet enjoyable language has been both a challenge and an important step in my Coffee Cult initiation. I began to use their odd expressions and once caught myself shouting at an oblivious driver, “BLATANT DISREGARD FOR THE STOP SIGN!” As soon as I started using these sayings in a non-work environment, I knew I could not be far from my long-awaited initiation.

One of the last steps before initiation was learning the orders, habits, and even the nicknames of the regular customers. One white-haired lady always orders a small café-au-lait with medium roast coffee and skim milk; once a day, an athletic middle-aged man dashes in for a large iced royale with “extra whip cream, no top.”

Along with the regulars' orders, I have also made note of the strange habits of our loyal patrons. For example, Mrs. Sylvia loves to inform the counter staff when the bathroom is out of toilet paper, while Mrs. Eloise always studies the menu for a lengthy five minutes, even though she eats here every day.

Finally, and most enjoyably, the Coffee Cult has created affectionate nicknames for its everyday customers. “Freeze with an Extra Shot of Espresso,” “Sketchy Medium Latte,” and “Creepy Dark Roast” are some of the magnificent pet names for the lovely faces we see each day. My skill for picking up on the meticulous habits and orders of regular customers, along with my ability to talk about them with cult members, was the final step that sealed my Coffee Cult membership.

Although there was no formal initiation process, the invitations to dinner with the cult, the lessons I've learned from both my co-workers and customers, and most importantly, the genuine friendships I've made at the coffee shop have been the most rewarding parts of my membership in the Coffee Cult.