Just spotted a guy outside the coffeehouse take a yard-long stick, scrape up something gooey from the sidewalk, and stare at it for minutes with an expression of total pleasure and wonderment on his face. Imagine, bliss found in discarded gum at the end of a stick.
It’s bright and sunny out for the first time in years – or so it seems. I’m inside a nice cool, dim coffeehouse enjoying a Red Eye before continuing the job search. Have a lovely Memorial Day weekend everyone. … And don’t forget that this weekend is to remember those who have fallen in defense of this country. It’s not just about burgers and hot dogs.
The words “free golf” may be the only two-word combo that is better than “free coffee.” But I had free coffee two days in a row. That may not beat free golf, but it’s not bad!
The guy at the next table at the coffeehouse has an interesting collection of tattoos, including the word “HOPE” across the knuckles of his left hand and “LOVE” across the knuckles of his right hand. I suppose that’s a bit of tough love and hope.
I’m sitting at a booth table at Exotic Java and on the couches near the large front windows are two guys in their mid-30s to mid-40s – I’m guessing from their conversation that they work in construction or something similar – and every other word out one guy’s mouth is @#$% this and %$#@ that.
I used to curse like a stevedore when I thought it added something to the conversation. And even when I knew it didn’t. I now feel that in almost every case cursing isn’t really necessary. Except maybe in golf and when you stub your toe getting up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. Then it’s OK.
Ah, coffee. That aroma. That deep brown steamy liquid comfort. That flavor. That POW to the senses. Coffee, you are the perfect elixir.
From my perch at empresso, the Miracle Mile coffeehouse I frequent, I can see several laptops open and Facebook on the screen, several other people texting on cellphones, some talking on cellphones, a professorly gentleman wearing suspenders and smoking a pipe, several people reading books – yes, books – a group chatting, and a fellow strumming a guitar. It’s a coffeehouse, all right.
Surprising how busy the coffeehouse has been all day. Lines for beverages, hot and cold, and the weather is sunny and bright outside. Granted, it is a bit windy, but quite nice.
I didn’t overhear this at the coffeehouse, but spotted it in a Facebook chain: “My blood type this morning is coffee positive.” I love that!
The empresso proprietors let local artists hang art for sale in the coffeehouse. Some of it is not, um, Monet. But something new today. An artist hung six painted skateboards and I like them.
I’ve never been a skateboarder, but I’m guessing these boards are not intended for use as a mode of transportation and aerial stunts. I would hang one or two of them. I’ll try to post a photo of them if I get a chance.
From left to right, subject matter includes:
A woman in a bikini with some of the board cut away where her hair is flowing; a Kingpin; AC/DC; John “The Duke” Wayne; an Aztec or other similar image with the edge of the board cut out; and a red, white and black board with the coffeehouse’s name and logo on it.
I just spotted a woman crossing the street near empresso and she was wearing a sombrero. … A very large and very colorful sombrero. Go figure!
There’s a guy sitting on the empresso patio and he’s rockin’ out. Big time. Except, there is no music. None. He’s either hyped way, way up on something or … yeah, he’s hyped up on somethin’. … Oh, Stockton, you never fail to entertain.
Go to Coffeehouse Observer for more coffeehouse observations.
Warmer weather means lovely coffeehouse patrons wearing short shorts and sundresses.
There’s an attractive black woman at the next table in a study group with two nerdy guys. She’s fairly busty and apparently doesn’t mind showing her study buddies – and much of the coffeehouse – her deep cleavage. … Some days are more aesthetically pleasing than other days at the coffeehouse.
Go to Coffeehouse Observer for more coffeehouse observations.
A guy just asked one of the coffeehouse servers “is the Internet broken.” I’m struggling to decide if that annoys me or if I find it prophetic. … In reality, I believe he was having a problem pay-to-use computers at the coffeehouse.
In an apparent salute to past technology, a guy on the empresso patio is playing Pacman on a laptop. What next? iPong?
Go to Coffeehouse Observer for more coffeehouse observations.
The hat I was wearing that day is the one on the left. The one on the right is another Maine item in my California apartment, a hat from L.L. Bean of Freeport, Maine. By the way, nephew Max and niece Sophie picked out the moose hat and very possibly had something to do with picking out the L.L. Bean hat.
I am at the coffeehouse and am wearing a cap that has a moose on the front. The antlers spell out “Cool Moose.” And I am not at all embarrassed. … Well, perhaps a little.
A woman just sat down at the table next to me. Tattoos on her shoulder and both her cheeks are pierced. Is that something new? She is the second woman in about a week and a half who has come into the coffeehouse with studs in her cheeks. Oh, and the one today is wearing a yellow strapless top that she keeps having to, um, adjust.
I am at the coffeehouse sitting next to a gray-haired woman with “U.S. Census Bureau” on her briefcase. She’s fumbling around attempting to text on her cell phone and not doing a particularly good job at it. I sure hope she’s better counting than she is texting.
