The Cozy Transformation from Bustle to Nestle (continued) -

Morning Bliss-
Locals gather early morning for casual pre-work
conversation. Everyone who walks in the door greets
everyone else, and everyone inside greets back. It’s not
about knowing people, it’s about enjoying the day and the
people in one’s path. A local senior citizen hobbles in to buy
his daily newspaper and welcomes every person with a “Good
Morning.” When he discovers all New York Times sold out,
another table donates their purchased copy to him with no
hesitation. His smile extends the length of his cane as he makes
himself comfortable amongst comrades outside; enlightening political
conversations commence for hours. One good friend
completes the task of writing a sermon that will unite two into one.
He carefully combines the Jewish and Catholic beliefs into one short
sweet ceremony. After a cup of straight coffee, both bride and officiant
are satisfied.

A few tourists line up to order their low-fat lattes in jogging apparel and visors. While the espresso erupts and the steam wand sings through the milk, the joggers eyeball scones, bagels and pound cake. The line of tourists
momentarily grows a bit so locals decide to step out to converse with
people rarely seen in the busy summer months. Life is too short to stand in line.

I can expect up to six people I know to sit briefly at
my table and share news while the barista creates their
usual. Now that most of us locals work weekends only,
the weekdays are spent reflecting, rejoining, and relaxing
completely.

Characters-
As the day progresses, the people seem more interesting.
Two middle-aged ladies, who’ve been taking a photography
class, tiptoe with huge lenses through the opening door as
if they are in a children’s mystery show. Like cartoons, the
ladies’ eyes grow round in unison with surprised mouths,
gasping, “Isn’t this cute?” The coffee shop might as well
be a life-sized gingerbread house. The two fold their hands
at the counter in front of the barista, “wowed” by the
coffee menu, and ask what the difference is between a latte
and a cappuccino. “And what’s a mocha? Does that have
chocolate in it?”

An Englishwoman in a long, belted denim skirt and blue
cotton cardigan draped over her shoulders, sits next to me
with her newspaper. Her husband stays in line to order two
cappuccinos as well as a hot chocolate for their seven-yearold
son. Her quiet face glows with ultimate relaxation and
peace as she scans the news pages.

When her husband gives her a small cappuccino, time
cuts to half speed. In slow motion, she removes the lid from her
cup, sets it down, and with both hands brings the steaming frothy cup
to her nose and inhales deeply. I catch myself inhaling with her, like
yawning when watching a person yawn. She grins with her eyes closed
and then looks at her husband to say, “Ah, that is good coffee.”
While a good friend joins my table to converse about everything under
the sun, a man in his ‘60s joyfully makes observations in a warm deep dark
chocolatey voice. He seems very content to stroll through the day, noticing how
beautiful the rain is. “That looks like real whipped cream. That’s
great! Ah, that’s Miles Davis playing.” No worries. No complaints,
and it feels contagious. Jazz fills in the pockets of silence, reminding
everyone to keep it cool. Chessboards and Scrabble sit in the
bookshelves in silent invitation. The person sitting in front of the
recycled newspapers gladly provides a few people with the section
they ask for. Strangers and friends cooperatively feel the peace.
A Momentary Disruption Early afternoon, a man squeezes into the entryway,
pompous attitude swelling to a suffocating degree. He
orders a Chai tea, but the barista tells him they don’t have
any today. His wife steps in and orders two lattes and
patiently watches the rhythmic espresso routine. Puffing up
his chest, the man moves his sweaty visor up and down his
forehead. “Why don’t you have Chai? I thought you had
Chai. You had Chai when I was here last year. Will you be
getting Chai?”

The barista puts the gallon of milk back into the refrigerator as
she patiently answers, “We might be getting
some in a shipment this week.” Perhaps this man doesn’t
get it -- don’t sweat the small stuff. After he pushes his way
out, the remainder of the coffeeshop takes a deep breath in
unison.

And So It Goes-
Ah, a deep breath. That’s the reason for hanging out all
day at the house o’joe. Outside one table plays a polite
game of Go Fish while an older lady perches in the sun
with a thick romance novel, a mini white dog curled up
under her chair. Shimmering teenage girls lick whipped
cream off their fingers as they giggle about cute boys and
weird teachers. One slowly pulls apart the sticky bun that
accompanies her cream and sugar coffee. They lean back on
the chairs. Without a watch in the group, everyone’s taking
it slow.

A cheeky short couple in their ‘70s creates a triangular
conversation about gardening with the barista and myself.
A serious, tall man pouring over his newspaper finds himself
caught in the center of the loud oral histories of tomatoes
and he leaves.

After school, other high school kids practice their cool
amongst the older locals. Girls in black hooded sweatshirts
knot up hemp necklaces tied to the cafe tables. Boys smoke
cigarettes and discuss new bands and albums. All are
friendly and nod “hello” to the other coffee drinkers.

The sun sets on the water, crisp leaves rustle in the trees,
and fireplace smoke wafts in and out of the breeze. My
little notebook recites all the images I recorded throughout
the day as I finish another pint of coffee. Now I can take
a nap, stroll to the cold beach, meet friends at the bar, or
read a book. Doesn’t matter when. I can repeat the entire
laid-back day all over again tomorrow. I’ll meet more friends
in the morning over a cinnamon roll; some the same as
today, some I haven’t seen since May. Perhaps I’ll head
up to Newport with the dogs to watch the leaves glow in
oranges, yellows, and rich reds and enjoy the cozy bliss of
the nonchalant off-season.