Coffee Shop Thoughts

The people who sit in coffee shops are different from those who sit in taverns...but not too much.

Why not have a beer or cup of coffee at home? It's much cheaper, possibly cleaner and definitely more comfortable.

It's social interaction that these roamers seek. The expressions on other people's faces, the random conversations...that's why we've come. It's the loneliness of four walls that drives us out into the outside world. When I am alone I think of everything there is that I need to do and on a productive day I will go ahead on those projects. However, when I am not in that productive mood, I need an escape. I need a long conversation, a new joke, a good laugh and extra faces.

Today I have watched a woman in a flowing black dress sway from one side of this room to the other, taking pictures in random fashion. There seems to be no wit to the plan of action, but a lot of pictures just the same.

One man has almost ran past me several times. I am not sure what he is doing. Does he work here? Or is he just here so often that he walks about as if he is at home. You know the type. They will be quick to show you around...where the restrooms are, what to and what not to do, who is strange and who is great. They don't like to go home. They leave work and come this way and only leave before the door is locked. I have been there and it is a fond sense of belonging. A person can meet and attain good friends this way so long as the institution that he is committed to stays afloat.

I look out of place here. I am dressed differently than most of the other patrons and I have seemingly went unnoticed. It's the same feeling that one finds in a casino, until you win the big prize and the buzzers sound and suddenly you are in the room and no longer just an anonymous face. I will be anonymous here too, until I trip and fall into the floor in front of the regulars, or mistake the men's room for the ladies, or drop my umbrella...you know the drill. An umbrella? They are thinking, it never rains in Texas.

I wish it would rain today. I wish that water would fall from the sky and drench the earth with it's tears. What does that mean? What am I thinking?

There is a young girl playing on a computer in the corner. She is plump and messy. She has had a good time since I have been here. She has skipped about in her flip flops, she has been read to, she has eaten, and now she is on that computer. I haven't heard her speak a word. She seems very sweet. She is chewing gum and teetering in her chair. I can tell that she is smart. Maybe she is the child of one of the employees here, or maybe one of her parents, ore even her babysitter is enjoying a cup of coffee or beer here. I wonder what she will do when she gets older? What will she be? I wonder if she will get married? Oh, there is her mother now, or so she seems. They are now leaving the building together. Her mother did work here.

A older gentleman stared at an attractive young woman sitting on a pink sofa with her laptop. He sized her up and she never noticed his gazes. These are all part of the days that linger by here.

A tall woman is leaving with her young son, she shaved neither her legs or underarms. I wonder why her son is not in school? But then again, the little girl was not either...is it a holiday today? The woman's face looks very kind. She was friendly with a short older man. They seemed to be romantic with one another. She was more enthralled with him than he with her. She wanted to control him it seemed. She wanted to pick out his clothes and schedule his barber appointments. The boy liked both of them...maybe they were divorced. How fickle...maybe they are still married.

Since being here I have wonder what the source of income may be for this establishment. Even though I really don't care. I would rather think about the people here. They are what is of interest to me.

An older man is sitting close to the window reading a book. He looks to be around sixty five years old. He has a cherry coke and is engulfed in his literature.

Along with food, spirits and coffee you may also purchase cigars, art, there is a stage and in the evening you may be entertained by various groups of musicians. This place is a cafeteria and a gallery, a dinner theater with a bar. There is a friendly area for children and a patio for the lovers of the sky. There is a bar and there are tables, ever couches. An ATM machine feeds cash to those who need it and you can buy the coffee beans that create the flavors you crave in quantities that would keep you from coming back tomorrow. But you won't. Why would you?

Silence.

A dozen microphone stands pose for a picture just below the stage. Like soldiers reporting for duty they are ready for a friendly hand to take them on stage.

I don't see a checker board. I wish there was one, and someone who wanted to play. Maybe I would strike up a conversation. Play a game of checkers...maybe even win.

The man with his book and cherry coke in toe is getting up. I think he is leaving. Where will he go? What is next on his list today? I will never know his name.

I'm blank. I like it here. The bar keep just turned on the music and now a subtle drift of tunes burst through speakers that have been waiting to be turned on.

I have noticed that there are stickers everywhere. Political activism is rampant here.

A man probably around fifty struts by breathing coffee and cigarettes on the girl that he stares at. Yes the same guy. I think she knows that she has been noticed but is smart enough not to return the gazes.

Well, I guess I have observed enough. My cup is empty...should I go? Yeah...I need to get home. I gather my things and start to leave the room that I have blown a Saturday morning in. I wonder what these cats thought of me?