Sunday Coffee

An afternoon at the coffee shop while procrastinating on my future is helping me….procrastinate.

There is a couple on a first date. They sound as though they are both on interviews. Each taking their turn talking about the “year’s” they’ve spent honing their professional crafts. They are maybe 30 so I wonder how they’d describe these same stories in 10, 20 years from now. These young adults are our future.

What does life do to us? Experience shapes how we tell a same story from one decade to the next.

What was funny, or smart, or classy or important in our 20’s, isn’t so funny, smart or classy and important in our 30’s and as I imagine our 40’s, 50’s or 60’s – I have yet to arrive!

We mimic. We observe. We try on other people’s stories. We jump into life and we learn. Our beliefs sometimes shift or become more entrenched.

We learn to take ourselves a little less seriously.

Life is good.

Coffee is great 🙂

A Famished Runner

Besides motivating me to get out and run, one thing I like about my running group is they are committed to their coffee.

Who wouldn’t want to join a group of solid runners committed to their coffee and on some runs, brunch.

Today’s run started and ended at the coffee shop.

It is a coffee shop.

It has the basics of a coffee shop. Coffee, a small selection of muffins, sandwiches and cookies. However, it is also an eco-friendly coffee shop and they sell local organic diary products like milk and eggs.

One of the runners arrived back from the run famished.

He waited in line at the cash for his turn, twisting and turning. When it was his turn he leaned in and asked the barista, “Do you have any eggs?”

The barista innocently replied, “I can sell you a dozen eggs if you’d like.”

I almost died laughing, imagining this famished runner, sipping his coffee with a bucket of a dozen raw eggs sitting in front of him.

His hunger neglected.

He passed on the dozen raw eggs.

A Saturday Morning

A Saturday Morning

image

I have come to the coffee shop to concentrate on some work that needs doing.

There is a man with his two children, a girl around 9 and a boy about 7, sitting in the back section with me.

The girl chose to sit by herself at one of the bar tables. She is entertaining herself by blowing up a paper bag and repeatedly hitting her fist against the air bulge at the bottom of the bag.

Surprisingly the bag is still intact.

Dad is sitting with his boy on the old church pews. They are having a spirited discussion in a language I do not recognize or understand.

l love this coffee shop even if I am distracted.

Baritone voices

This morning is a great morning to be anywhere but home. It’s a gorgeous day. I took a tour to my coffee shop and it’s teeming with people! People I am seeing for the first time. It seems the longer this place is open the more people come to see what it’s all about. I highly recommend coming to see what it is all about.

I may have described the interior before but maybe not the attending coffee barista’s. I don’t really like calling them barista’s because this shop doesn’t really buy in to pretentious naming conventions. In fact it would be more suitable to call them Nuns and Priests with all the church pews in the shop. However they are neither Nuns nor Priests they are just regular people that have regular days and are sometimes grumpy.

Today there is a group of music teachers talking about testing students. They are talking about accidentals, flash cards and a whole slew of other terms that well, frankly I haven’t heard in a long while.

In any event I am highly tempted to be frustrated with them because they are being so loud. So loud in fact that I can hardly hear myself think and this doesn’t happen very often because my thinking thoughts are pretty loud.

So in my little state of frustration I desperately want to go over and kick the church pew’s they are seated at (anger management I KNOW seriously!).

Instead, I take a deep breath and think. Who do I know that has such a deep baritone voice that carries block on block on end…hmmmm…and it hits me, my brother!

How can I be angry with a group of older gentlemen having a good time at the expense of their students if they all sound like my brother with their voices that are likely carrying all the way to the lake front? If I close my eyes they do sound like a group of teenage guys out to have a good time, is that so wrong?

Well I can’t be angry.

So I put in my head phones turn on my own music, give one last long stare at the loudest of them all, forgive them for taking over my coffee shop and try to focus on why I am here in the first place…you know…world dominance haha 🙂