I have always loved the smell of coffee. For me, coffee conjures up brisk fall mornings, lazy Saturdays and my mother preparing a thermos of java for dad to take to work on the graveyard shift. Yet for all the wonderful associations I remained a coffee virgin until well into my marriage. My husband repeatedly invited me to accompany him to coffee shops but I didn’t understand why he couldn’t just stir up a cup of instant Folgers at home.
“I want to get away from the house, the phone and the chores for a while,” he explained to me. “Besides,” he said tossing a little guilt into the pot, “aren’t I worth a few dollars?” I don’t remember if I played the dutiful wife or if Patrick finally wore me down, but whatever the reason I finally accompanied him and a coffee shop habit was born.
Once I sampled my first frappuccino it wasn’t long before I turned to the dark side. In actuality I’m not a true disciple of the bean; I need cream to take the edge off. Patrick, on the other hand, will drink a straight triple espresso that looks like motor oil and dissolves the end of the spoon.
Coffee shops have a heady aura about them. One can, in fact, keep completely to oneself while still being in the thick of the action. I think it’s akin to being an extra on a movie set while the Director – or in this case, Barista – barks out instructions: “Grande, iced Americano; one raw sugar with room.”
If one is an observer of human behavior a coffee shop is the ultimate laboratory. Set two people down opposite a little round table with with foaming cappuccinos and it’s like listening in on a therapy session. The whole of life and love can be solved over a single latte. In the movie, “You’ve Got Mail,” Tom Hanks makes a great summation about coffee shops: “The whole purpose of places like Starbucks is for people with no decision-making ability whatsoever to make six decisions just to buy one cup of coffee. Short, tall, light, dark, caf, decaf, low-fat, non-fat, etc. So people who don’t know what [in the world] they’re doing or who on earth they are can, for only $2.95, get not just a cup of coffee but an absolutely defining sense of self.”
Of course there’s nothing like frequenting a coffee shop to level the playing field. People of all ages and walks of life congregate having at least one thing in common. That thing, alone, is enough to break down an approachability barrier that might be insurmountable in another setting. Conversations are started over straws and stirs and intensified by the electric thrill of bumping hands while reaching for the skim milk at the same time. Two people can make a face-to-face connection and share a few billable hours sipping mocha breves with their laptops open – no strings attached. Move over chat rooms and on-line dating services; coffee shops are the 21st century meat markets.
Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name – or at least your drink. Savvy shop owners capitalize on this. There’s nothing like being greeted by name and asked if you’re having ‘the usual.’ The icing on the cake is drinking ‘your usual’ with a table of ‘regulars.’
Coffee shops aren’t just about the coffee. They’re about an entire sensory experience; an active participation in connection and community. Refill anyone?
