Coffee Shop Talk
by Judith Cullen
(c) 2014
Coffee shops predate the proliferation we think of as the Starbucks
explosion. Coffee shop culture goes back
well into the 19th century and, like cafe culture, has existed
seemingly forever in Europe. Like pubs and taverns, even the most corporate
places strive for a certain “local watering hole” quality. The best of them seem to have the same
successful ambience: clean, friendly places where the really good baristas know
the customers by name and favorite beverage.
It’s a mix of the familiar, the intimate, and the anonymous.
Restaurants are not the same. In a restaurant a bubble of privacy forms
around your table, intruded upon only by the wait staff. Depending on the class of the restaurant,
conversation is uttered in lowered voices, even leaning in to one another. It is outré, a gross violation of manners, to
have a boisterous conversation that bursts into other diner’s bubbles. While
acceptable volume levels vary by establishment, it is most assuredly not good
form to be a bubble breaker. Pay
attention!
In many coffee shops, especially in locally owned stores,
there is a unique blend that comes from more than the roaster. It can be both treacherous and invigorating.
Like the public house, communities of acquaintance spring up. Customers not only are known, but come to
know one another: greeting each other with warmth, asking after family, inquiring
about projects. Voices are raised in
greeting, much like the mythical bar of 1980s television fame, “Norm!”
Yet, at the same time, intimacy exists like subtext: an
undercurrent skimming beneath the more public surface. People lean together, having very personal,
very private conversations. The coffee
shop is neutral territory where the public-private combination allows for
revelation in a controlled, somewhat calm environment. I am sure that it happens, but when was the
last time you saw someone toss a cup of coffee at someone and storm out the
door? In the coffee shop, when the dial
skews to “private,” we invoke our “restaurant manners.”
Coffee shops become ad hoc conference rooms. Recently, I observed two leggy blondes walk
in with a tall, impeccably suited gentlemen.
They’d arrived in separate vehicle. After the pleasantries of beverage purchasing,
the meeting was called to order with all the decorum of a corporate
convocation. Websites, branding, and
strategy being pointedly and rapidly reviewed, discussed, and recorded before
moving on. The shop had been fairly
empty at the time. Had it been busier,
the meeting would have been absorbed by the public-private anonymity of the
shop. I don’t believe that Roberts’
Rules were being observed, but if they had, Mr. Roberts would have been blowing
on his low-fat cappuccino before sipping it, along with the others.
Listening in is rude, I admit it. But sometimes, when one “goes for coffee” and
works solo, it is hard not to hear snippets of the life teaming all around you,
breathing in and out, repressing and expressing - mostly expressing. The
coffee shop is safe.
“Man, I lived here in the 90s. I’m not afraid of guns.”
“I don’t know how to manage her negativity.”
“You know, we’ll be sending out invites and I’d love for you
to come.”
“Oh yeah, I worked on your house!”
“Hey! World of War
Craft! That was you!”
“She was so cute this morning, she almost cried.”
There are unspoken rules in the coffee shop. If you come to work, or use the Wifi, it’s
polite to buy something – a cup of coffee, a bagel. It’s also considered polite to clean up your
mess. Pick up your newspaper, bus your
debris. The staff is rarely in a
position to wipe up after the volume of lives, known and unknown, coming in and
out.
Above all, observe and learn. Open yourself to understanding the diversity
of intent surrounding you, the differences between the public and private
moments in a coffee shop. Learn to
discern the distinction between something that could include you, where you
chime in as a member of a joyous community of stimulant drinkers, and a moment
between individuals which is not inclusive. If it feels it might be an
intrusion, it probably is. Mistakes are inevitable. Smiling in polite acknowledgement is always
in the best taste. People will forget a
blundering comment, but a smile enriches their day long after they’ve moved on.
Above all, respect the life around you: loud, soft,
communal, intimate, sensitive, and completely clueless. It’s not a substitute
for living your own life, but it is a marvelous sampling. It is a great opportunity to gain perspective.
“Mocha no whipped cream, please.”
By Judith Cullen © 2014
