"Oh, is that clothing store the best one ever made and the prices are unbelievably cheap? Cool! Let's go together, my new job starts tomorrow and I have nothing work-appropriate to wear! Oh, you're busy? Yeah... me too."
"That new restaurant has the best milkshakes you've ever tasted? I fucking LOVE milkshakes! What's that? Oh, me? No, I won't go today. I have no one to go with me... I'll just pour a glass of water and shake it real hard with ice and pretend."
It's not necessarily some debilitating affliction or anything dramatic like that, just a quirk I've always had. And it's not for a lack of wanting to go to these places, it's just a weird fear of doing something stupid when I get there that'll mortify me. Tripping through the door, not knowing what to order, or worse, knowing what to order but for some reason doing it the wrong way. Going to the wrong side of the counter, dressing in a way that has people looking at me in a way that I wouldn't prefer. You name it!
So today, in this oh-so-new city of mine, I have a new daily enemy:
the search for a new coffeeshop to write at.
When I started taking a laptop away from home (my old Dell back in 2005 which was stupidly small and heavy but almost always trusty) I would only go to Barnes & Noble. I was, after all, working on my book, and being surrounded by the very things I was trying to create seemed like the best idea possible. Right? Right! Plus they served Starbucks coffee and I was always so proud to order some sort of Frappuccino because I was 19 and didn't know any better. Regardless, I went there dutifully for several months until there was a weird sorta... altercation... with that bitch Carol running the joint.
For the record, I did nothing wrong. It's a long story about this little terd with... okay, I'll just tell the story. Quit asking already!
I have never ever ever been a person to show up at an establishment, mooch off 'em for the environment, and then leave. To me, what makes me a good customer (in that regard) is that I always purchase a drink/sandwich/whatever to make my financial contribution and thus feel like they can't shoot daggers my way for hanging out for a few hours. One day in particular I went to B&N and purchased my drink, then went to sit down beside the garbage can. Because the store was built in the late 90's (or maybe from an oversight) they did not offer electrical outlets for people to plug in their computers and work. It took several visits and some discrete snooping for me to find that the one and only power outlet was hidden behind a big garbage can.
So naturally I made it a point to sit next to this whenever I went, or at least in the vicinity so that if someone were occupying the spot, I could move to it when they left to charge my laptop. The battery on that thing was crap and hardly last two hours.
There I am, having been sitting for no more than 10 minutes, when this boy comes and sits down two tables away but still on the bench I was using. After a few minutes, he moves all of his stuff over and directly to the table next to me. Keep in mind, I've got my headphones on and am working diligently, not farting around on the internet. At that point you had to pay AT&T for Wi-Fi and I didn't want to! Pretty quickly he gets his phone out and is pretending (I think he's pretending, at least) to have a conversation with someone about "needing to charge his computer because the battery was dead." He's saying it loudly, and obviously, and I have the mentality of "Well I was here first and you can wait your turn if you don't want to ask if you can plug your stuff in. The cord will reach."
But he doesn't, and I don't say a word, and after a few minutes he gets up and is out of my sight for a bit. He comes back and sits down, headphones on, head buried in a notebook. I just figure he's very odd but I keep writing. Then Carol comes over. Keep in mind, she knows me. I've been going for months and she's always there, toddling around, and we've spoken a few times. Her with an "Ugh, my job is so hard" attitude and me with a "I don't care but I'll use a charming smile and mostly genuine laugh."
"You need to move, he has to charge his computer," she says, blunt as a baseball bat. No emotion, no smile, just a statement filled with exhaustion despite it being like... noon.
"What?" I asked, taking my headphones off. Now she looks exasperated.
"You need to move, you've been here long enough and he needs to charge his computer."
I probably got stone faced because I hate confrontation, but in hindsight I feel like I had this incredulous expression on my face of "what the fuuuuuck?" I remember looking at the Frappuccino still 3/4 full and the lack of ANYTHING that he could have purchased. My patronage meant that little? My loyalty to the B&N deserved that? I blushed really deep, closed my laptop and looked him right in the eye.
"You could have asked," was all I said. And he gives this big surprised look, as if to say "oh my golly, what happened?" I stood up and packed my bag, with Carol and her big fat ass standing right there, and then she has another thought as I turn to walk away.
"He'll probably be charged in an hour."
I turned to her and in the (what I hoped) coolest voice I could muster, said "I won't ever be back." If only there had been a complicated hand gesture, toss of the hair and smooth transition to putting on my sunglass as I said it though! Failed opportunity!
And I never did go back, actually. I hold a grudge like no other and that circus clown Carol pissed me off. I finished my drink in the car, probably all moody and on the verge of tears because I'm that person, then went to Starbucks by the mall because I still had writing to do. I went inside feeling unsure of myself. I'd been there before, sure, but never to work on something. Would it be okay? Would they ask me to leave after a while?
But they didn't. And it was perfect.
And it remained perfect for just about 10 years. Eventually they all knew my name, they (usually) knew my drink order, and whenever I changed it they would guffaw and make fun of me. Sometimes it was a free drink, sometimes they'd come and chat with me when they were on their breaks. I finished writing Episodes I, II, and III there, then the respective (multiple) edits. I signed a copy of the first book and gave it to them as thanks for letting me hang out. I loved that Starbucks, y'know? Smaller than most, with an annoying drive-thru and not much seating area... but I loved it. It became a second home to me, like a refuge.
I started writing Episode IV there this summer but had to stop because I just didn't have the mental capacity to work on that, plus publishing Episode II, plus planning for the move to Texas. What I liked about working at that Starbucks was that it was almost always cold inside (something about the air being kinda broken in there). I could just layer up and sit for hours, tinkering away, because I am usually quite warm. The music was never super loud and I always knew I'd be able to find a place to sit and work. It was good people watching when I wasn't 100% committed to writing, and it was an easy place for friends to find me and drop in if they had a few minutes to spare.
So in moving to Austin, I had the notion that there'd be a million better places to write and work on my stuff that were as good if not better than that scenario. Not that there was anything wrong with the other coffee houses in Appleton, I'm sure they were a dandy and a hoot, I've just always been a creature of habit. When I settle on something enjoyable and safe, I settle for good (until someone like Carol ruins it (yes, I did complain to B&N corporate (no, I didn't get anything out of it (just satisfaction she got in trouble (I don't know if she really got in trouble (probably though)))))).
How silly was I to think that though?
There are plenty of places, yes. But they are all places I have so far ventured to alone, because Derek is working and I'm nearly 30 years old and need to act like an adult. Part of my search criteria comes down to convenience. Sure, I can drive to wherever I want, but I'd prefer to keep it to 15 minutes if not less. Because 15 minutes to get somewhere usually means 45 to get home when my writing stops and the traffic conveniently starts. Then there's also what you're actually getting from these place.
I have no problem spending $5 at Starbucks for a drink I know I'll like, even if coffee snobs say "that's not a real drink." If it's liquid and it tastes good then to me it's a drink. And as much as I want to support local business and give back to the community rather than a corporation, they so far just kinda suck here. I've been to three coffee shops so far and not a single one has been a hit. A large iced mocha at each place cost $5, same as Starbucks, but in the size of a small instead. I'm 6'4" and 230 pounds! A small drink isn't going to tide me over or do diddly squat, puh-lease. They are either too small inside and crowded, overly large and empty of tables, or just the right size but with the religious loonies that prayed for the barista while they were paying the bill.
I'm sure there are great places to find and maybe within the next 8 months of our lease (it was a 9 month lease, weird, right?) I'll find a place I love and then we'll move a little closer to that area. Or not and I'll just figure it out! But until then it's kind of sucky to keep trying these places and know within the first few minutes that it isn't going to work. I don't want to be "that guy" that walks in, looks around, then turns and leaves. Because even though I am 150% certain no one would give two shits, in my mind they are writing down my license plate and looking me up to judge me.
It's unfounded but true.
So does anyone else ever feel that way about going to new places? Strike back if you do, I know I'm not alone. I'll go any place new if I've got a friend with me to act as the buffer, but on my own I'm like a cat when they see the vacuum. Scamper!
Anyway, all for now. Back to editing Episode III at the lovely Starbucks I've found. Ciao (c;
No comments:
Post a Comment