Another Day, Another Cafe--Repost
Another Day, Another Café
Igot a bottle of water from Starbucks this morning and the cashier, in all theshuffle and because I also ordered an iced coffee with milk and sugar freehazelnut syrup, forgot to charge me for the water. I realized it when I satdown. I thought about going back up to the lady at the register and tellingher, but something stopped me.
It’snot that I’m not a good person. It’s just that first of all why do I have topay for good water? Our water should be pure. Secondly, the water is probablylike two or three dollars and they give a whopping five cents to humanitariancauses. Five cents. I know, I know, Starbucks is a great company etc. etc. BLAHBLAH. However they overcharge for coffee and they are taking over all smallcafé’s in the entire world.
Ifwe don’t watch out the world could become one big Starbucks. I’m not kidding wecould all end up living in a huge coffee house with a green sign. Don’t get mewrong; I have a love/hate relationship with Starbucks. It bores me to deaththat it’s everywhere, however I like my sugar free hazelnut, not all cafes havethat. It’s a conundrum.
I’mnot suggesting you steal from anywhere, but if someone mistakenly gives you afree thing, I would take it. Especially if it’s from a company that is biggerthan god. But what about morals? What about doing the right thing? I’m not surethat spending this much on coffee is the right thing to do anyways. You knowthat thing about how you could save like a million dollars for retirement ifyou just stopped buying coffee from cafés? It’s probably true.
Iused to go to a café in Birmingham, Michigan. I don’t remember the name, but itwas an independent thing that kept changing owners and names. It was open allnight; students would usually crowd the place and a few homeless people too.One guy was known to be Schizophrenic and he would roam through the streets ofBirmingham and always buy a Mountain Dew from the café.
I’ve heard Mountain Dew is special and can stabilize someone with ADHD. It could be a myth, don’t quote me on it. I don’t know what Mountain Dew does to schizophrenics. I know what it does to me: wakes me up….
I just had a salad at Panera Bread. I’m on a new diet. We will see if this one works. There is a Jewish man sitting across from me wearing a cap, I don’t know what it’s called. I want to ask him. I want to talk to him because he is different than me. And I know men who wear turbans and have a hard time and
Speakingof us all getting along, I guess I’m as guilty as anyone else about judgingpeople by the way they look. There are two attractive middle-aged blonde womensitting next to me. They are dressed very fashionably so I assume they are richhousewives. I don’t know anything about them, who am I to judge? “She’s likeschizophrenic,” one of the housewives says. Is she under the impression thatschizophrenia is multiple personality disorder? People get that mixed up allthe time.
Peoplewill be talking in jest and say things like, “She’s so bipolar,” when talkingabout some random acquaintance of theirs. It’s casual and I know they don’tmean anything by it, but it still bothers me. Maybe it should not. Maybe Ishould be stronger than that. But I’m not.
It’sa beautiful day! Remember Mr. Rogers? “It’s a beautiful day in theneighborhood, a beautiful day in the neighborhood, would you be mine, would yoube mine, would you be my neighbor?” I want you to be my neighbor. It’s like youare sitting next to me right now and I’m just talking to you. Just talking.
Youcan talk back to me, if you put in the comments I can hear what you have tosay.
Pretendwe are having a cup of joe together at one of these very cafés that I go to.You know what I don’t like? There is a Target across the street. It’s probablyidentical inside to a Target in Minneapolis or Kentucky. There’s no varietyanymore. I like Target, but the world is turning into a great big strip mallwith the same exact chain stores, cafés, and restaurants. And it’s not just inAmerica; Starbucks is like in India and stuff. They don’t even drink coffeemuch in India and no way can Starbucks make proper chai.
“Areally nice staple cream blouse,” is what the housewife next to me is saying. Imean why does she have to be so typical?
What’sup with that anyways?
Thereare construction men hauling things outside the window. Some people think I’m asnob because I won’t date construction workers or truck drivers. I just don’tthink we would jive? What’s your opinion on the matter? Could you see myprincess ass with a construction worker? What would we talk about? I don’tknow, am I too judgey?
Thereis a total of one black person, no sorry two black people in this entire café.I live in such a white-bred world. “Uptown Girl, she’s been livin’ in herwhite-bred world, I bet she’s never had a backstreet guy, I better mother nevertold her why…I’m in love with an uptown girl.”
Iguess I’m an uptown girl. I want to be different. I mean I lived in Harlem nextdoor to a drug dealer when I was in grad school. It did change me somewhat, Igave that neighbor a dirty look, like don’t even think of looking my way, everytime he walked by.
Idon’t have to do that here in the suburbs. There is a Muslim woman with a lightblue scarf or hijab on. She is stunning actually. She is talking to a bald manoutside.
Iwish there was even more diversity in this town. I am the one and only Indianperson in this café. That’s kind of annoying and kind of brilliant. I’m uniqueand I’m different.
Ican’t decide if I’m special or I’m just being stupid.
Istarted Weight Watchers; this will be like my tenth time trying it in my life.I’ve lost weight on it before, so it should work. I like it so far; I’ve hadone meal and a snack. Oprah bought into Weight Watchers big time. It just sohappens I do everything that woman says.
It’snine-o’clock in the morning, on a Friday. I’m at a bagel shop. Nothing ishappening. Literally, nothing.
Let’s talk about nothing for a second here. What is nothing? It’s literally no-thing. Not even a thing. Nothing is wrong right now, nothing is right. Am I the same person I was yesterday? I don’t know. ‘Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away…cause I believe in yesterday…” I believe in yesterday, just as much as I believe in tomorrow.
Thereis something about yesterday that is sweet. There is something about the pastthat is real. The future is imaginary. But really there is only one moment: thepresent. The present is all around us, it’s real. For me it’s a bagel shop witha bunch of businessmen getting their breakfast. Right now, that is my presentmoment. The smell of fresh bread and cheese. It’s all here, in this moment.None of it is bad. I’m OK ,you’re OK. We are gonna be alright. I know it…
NowI’m at the teahouse sipping on mint tea. They are about to play live music, oneof my former students is playing guitar. Seems to me there are a lot of peoplein their twenties here. That’s nice, it makes me feel young. “Tonight, we areyoung, set the world on fire…” I don’t remember the rest of the words. I thinkit’s a group called Fun that sings that. Great name for a band. Fun.
OhI didn’t tell you someone told me to patent Ninaland…I might just do that. If Ihave to sell Ninaland t-shirts to make money, I might. Anything to keep thedream alive. “What’s your dream? In Hollywood everybody’s gotta dream…” Namethe movie that line came from…
Iwant to be distracted tonight...I don’t want to work. Two young chicks cameinto this joint with red and pink roses in their hands. They are wearing a lotof make-up but they are still pretty. I should have worn lipstick. But tonightI’m me, just me. Bare faced and no longer a young girl. A woman.
nina