There is a place in the world where everything stops for the moment. As you drift into words inked on newspaper, the bustle of the day fades away and all that moves is the steam rising from your coffee. Stories of celebrity, stories of crime, stories of business and political lies, it's all outside of you as inside you find yourself at last.
Downtown is on lunch break. While the local residents and social workers mingle and mission, all the suited business people are on the prowl. The popular corner coffee shop is my destination, a little place that gets a lot of revenue. It is a typical business with its modern jazz style, shelves of products, and young employees, yet quant in its size and charm.I add myself to the squiggly line of people waiting for their turn to order. As usual this place is packed. It bothers me a bit today, no particular reason. Just didn’t get enough sleep last night, I guess. The same people I see everyday are about and I’m in no mood to talk to anyone. So, I roll my shades down onto my face, shove my hands in my pockets, and keep to myself. Today I manage to avoid over abundant small talk.
During the wait my anxiety builds until... My turn! “I’d like a small sugar free vanilla soy latte.” I move over, wait again, but just for a few minutes. “Small sugar free vanilla soy latte!” the barista announces. I grab the cup. It’s mine, all mine! The soothing heat penetrates the cardboard, warming my hands and exciting my soul. Glancing around for a seat, I find one small table in a corner, near the trash cans, and by a window. Small and window… perfect. Conveniently there is a leftover newspaper on the table, something to shove my face into while I sip on my latte and drift away from society.
I flip over the previously parted pages until I find something that suits my fancy: the events section. This city is an artist’s city and there is nothing better to do on any given night than to go see at band at the local bar. Lately I’ve been out prospecting the gentlemen only to find over-achieving or under-matured boys. I find myself let down by the apparent fact that this city is not a place to find a decent suitor. Discouraged I turn the page and begin reading some random article. I let the words seep into my mind and out, not actually paying attention and just meditating on the thoughts. The sounds of the shop, the clanking dishes, vocal chatter, speaker music, outside traffic, fades to a dim background hum. This is what I was looking for today, a place of peace and solitude, to find myself outside the world while existing inside of it.
Lifting the hot cup to my lips and breathing in the steamy aroma, I peer over the cup's edge through the window viewing the traffic of cars and people. Doors swing, cell phones ring, bodies rush; back and forth the dance makes linear rainbows in long exposure. Then, out of the blend stands a very familiar figure. Right in front of the window it passes to the street side. The background noises pop back into stereo as I begin to stand in realization. It’s him! Turning quickly from the window I dash away from the table, knocking over the chair. There are thoughts in my mind, but they are a jumbled mess from shock. I throw open the door and run out to the curb. My eyes dart across the street. There is he, hailing a cab. My voice strains as I begin to yell out his name. I throw my arms in the air and yell. There are too many cars on the street to cross it and too much noise, so I jump, and wave, and yell, yell. Scanning the street for a potential opening to cross, I notice a big bus headed in my direction and before I know it it’s right in front of me. As it moves out of the way, he is gone.
Downtown is on lunch break. While the local residents and social workers mingle and mission, all the suited business people are on the prowl. The popular corner coffee shop is my destination, a little place that gets a lot of revenue. It is a typical business with its modern jazz style, shelves of products, and young employees, yet quant in its size and charm.I add myself to the squiggly line of people waiting for their turn to order. As usual this place is packed. It bothers me a bit today, no particular reason. Just didn’t get enough sleep last night, I guess. The same people I see everyday are about and I’m in no mood to talk to anyone. So, I roll my shades down onto my face, shove my hands in my pockets, and keep to myself. Today I manage to avoid over abundant small talk.
During the wait my anxiety builds until... My turn! “I’d like a small sugar free vanilla soy latte.” I move over, wait again, but just for a few minutes. “Small sugar free vanilla soy latte!” the barista announces. I grab the cup. It’s mine, all mine! The soothing heat penetrates the cardboard, warming my hands and exciting my soul. Glancing around for a seat, I find one small table in a corner, near the trash cans, and by a window. Small and window… perfect. Conveniently there is a leftover newspaper on the table, something to shove my face into while I sip on my latte and drift away from society.
I flip over the previously parted pages until I find something that suits my fancy: the events section. This city is an artist’s city and there is nothing better to do on any given night than to go see at band at the local bar. Lately I’ve been out prospecting the gentlemen only to find over-achieving or under-matured boys. I find myself let down by the apparent fact that this city is not a place to find a decent suitor. Discouraged I turn the page and begin reading some random article. I let the words seep into my mind and out, not actually paying attention and just meditating on the thoughts. The sounds of the shop, the clanking dishes, vocal chatter, speaker music, outside traffic, fades to a dim background hum. This is what I was looking for today, a place of peace and solitude, to find myself outside the world while existing inside of it.
Lifting the hot cup to my lips and breathing in the steamy aroma, I peer over the cup's edge through the window viewing the traffic of cars and people. Doors swing, cell phones ring, bodies rush; back and forth the dance makes linear rainbows in long exposure. Then, out of the blend stands a very familiar figure. Right in front of the window it passes to the street side. The background noises pop back into stereo as I begin to stand in realization. It’s him! Turning quickly from the window I dash away from the table, knocking over the chair. There are thoughts in my mind, but they are a jumbled mess from shock. I throw open the door and run out to the curb. My eyes dart across the street. There is he, hailing a cab. My voice strains as I begin to yell out his name. I throw my arms in the air and yell. There are too many cars on the street to cross it and too much noise, so I jump, and wave, and yell, yell. Scanning the street for a potential opening to cross, I notice a big bus headed in my direction and before I know it it’s right in front of me. As it moves out of the way, he is gone.
