Coffee Houses

I love coffee houses, I always have. My mom used to take my sister and me to get an a special treat on Saturday mornings at a coffee house. For me they are this place of community and intellectual conversations and are brilliant for people watching, when you really should be working on an essay. Here are some recent observations from a place I love called St. Marks.

• One overly stressed barista who was so flustered he about slid a mug right off its plate because he was moving so fast.
• Lots of people sitting in front of laptops studying or otherwise working.
• Fewer people pouring over text books and rapidly taking notes.
• One highly intriguing man who looked like he could be foreign, and sat and sketched for several hours on rumpled pieces of paper. He was my favorite.
• An eclectic group of four. I never could figure out their connection or what exactly they were talking about.
• One private Italian lesson. French has fewer words than Italian and unlike French, every letter is pronounced.
• One guy with a ring in his nose like you see on cows, although at first I thought it was something else.
• Two people admiring the art work of a friend.
• Several fun and lively conversations.
• Several quieter and therfore probably deeper conversations.
• Lots of people sitting on the patio enjoying the warm spring weather.

It was an excellent day for observing and slightly less productive for paper writing.