The Sacredness of a Coffee Shop

The other day I was eating brunch in my favorite coffee shop when I noticed a couple of young women sitting nearby, one of them processing what sounded to be like a recent breakup. Not wanting to eavesdrop, I tried not to pay attention to the details, but from what I heard it sounded like the grieving woman did what she believed to be best by separating herself from her ex, and yet it was still hard to sever the connection.

I thought about my own anxiety that had brought me to the coffee shop: a need to get out of the house and process some of my thoughts on paper, working on planning out some of my financial goals for the next year. Somehow writing out my concerns, hopes, and fears helped me feel better.

I don’t know the story of the woman sitting near me, but I thought it a beautiful thing, how a place of common comfort – over lattes and cappuccinos – could become a place of common growth. She was working on her story, and I was working on mine. I’ll probably never know what will become of her. From what it sounded like, she was doing what she needed to be healthy, and because of that I’m sure she’ll be okay. And I think I will be too.

Where You Find Refuge

I love the part in stories when the characters meet in cafes. There is something intimate about a cafe that elicits honesty among those who go there. It is a warm and safe place where people take off their masks, and often where they go to work out their problems. On the other hand, we often see people putting on masks when they go to an expensive restaurant. Do you ever notice how characters meet their friends in a cafe, but they meet their enemies in the white tablecloth-, crystal glass-type atmosphere? In the movie Thor, for example, the people Thor runs into when he visits earth take him to a homely diner. This builds a sense of comfortability among those in the group. In Paranoia, on the other hand, the rivaling companies meet in fine-dining settings, creating tension and competition between each other. [Sidebar: Yes, I realize I just named movies that feature the Hemsworth brothers. What can I say, they’re rather nice-looking and they have accents] I can’t recall how many times I’ve wanted to write a story that includes a scene in a cafe or coffee shop. The worn chairs, the smooth jazz playing in the background, the hot mug warming my hands. A pause in everyday life as I contemplate the adventures awaiting me. But as I’ve heard from many artists, people don’t want to hear a story in which there is no conflict. What does work in a story is when the character has a refuge, a place to escape in the midst of trouble. In novels it may be a hidden cave or an attic. In many movies, it is a coffee shop or cafe. Often I am so distracted by everyday stresses that I don’t want to focus on creating a fictional conflict. But perhaps the escape isn’t so much the location I write about as it is in the actual writing. Hence why it’s taken me three hundred words to say I love coffee shops.

Things I Love: Coffee Shops

I was in a certain coffee shop last week, and I was thinking about how I love coffee shops. I knew I wanted to write a blog post about it, but I didn’t have my computer with me. All I had was some scrap paper in my purse, and so on that piece of paper I wrote the following thoughts:

If I had a journal or a computer with me here, I am almost certain I would write. But what I’d write I have no idea. There’s just something about this place that could inspire the least artistic person to feel artsy. I don’t know if it’s the creamy tan walls, though empty now, that are normally filled with the most interesting paintings by unknown artists, that inspire people; or maybe it’s the uniqueness of the tables, one decorated with pictures of doors, and on the side of which is written, “The doors are always open,” another adorned with a black bikini under glass. The only question is, what does this place inspire?

I’m sure I would feel inspired, but maybe only to do nothing but sit and enjoy the playful music in the background speakers and listen to the baristas call out orders while couples sit and talk about their everyday lives as if that was all that mattered. Kind of romantic, somewhat stereotypical, but lovely in the simplicity of small things. I don’t know if this is the place I want to leave so I can live my life, or the place I want to come to escape it.