Cool place. Huge. You could set up a band and a dance floor in here. Not your typical coffee shop. Six other customers are here. Two teens chatting to my left. Two women chatting across the room. I happen to know those last two just met. They shook hands on the way in. Now, via eaves dropping, I have discovered that one of the ladies knows one of the teens. They are sharing a jovial secret across the room.
The barrista recognized me from yoga yesterday. We had a lengthy discussion about the vast history of this town. Some families have been here for close to a century, including ours. There are some names you can mention that will elicit immediate recognition.
I am intrigued by the photos on the shelves across from me. They are photos of ordinary people. Various ages, colors, shapes, and sizes. There are 22 of them arranged in a pyramid on 6 shelves, with 7 at the bottom and 1 at the top. I wonder if they are customers. Or is it an photographer’s gallery? On either side, there are large white canvasses with simple black drawings. One is a well dressed man with his hat tipped over his eyes. I honestly can’t tell you what the other one is. It will need a closer look. Both are crooked and that irritates me.
Many patrons have come and go. Some quiet. Some not. I do find it amusing when a person can speak with such volume in a quiet place and either not realize how loud they are, or not care.
I like the clock on the wall. It is actually part of the wall. It is about 4 feet high, 3 feet wide, and built into the wall. Large silver ‘buttons’ serve as the numbers. Large black arms tell the time. Cool.
It’s about time for my brother to join me, so I will finish up. There he is now. Catch you on the flip side.