My Day Spent Posing as a Well-To-Do in a New York City Coffee Shop
(To protect the innocent, the address and names of said Coffee Shop have been withheld.)
I’m in New York to visit Blake for a long weekend. In an effort to actually graduate, I’m spending my days working on essays and my nights faffing about town with Blake. Today, my first day of work, took me to a coffeehouse not far from Blake’s office. It’s a favorite of both of ours. It’s locally owned, always full and Blake contends it’s a damn good cup of coffee while I take the tea.
Sitting here, ruminating about the post-World War II resistance in Estonia, I look around and there isn’t an empty chair. It’s 10am on Friday. Why aren’t all these people at work? Some are obviously students, but what about these two thirty somethings next to me?
They’re talking about real estate and Paul (lets call him Paul) is going to make a killing on selling his house/apartment. Joe, the other one, tells Paul that if he has any sense, he should invest in real estate in West Virginia. Has Joe been to West Virginia? Then Joe gets a phone call and Paul, who is seated behind me, but within one foot, says, “So, you Estonian?”
I turn, “Yes, well Estonian-American…”
He’s been reading the essay I am revising over my shoulder.
Joe gets off the phone and joins in, telling me it’s Paul’s bachelor party weekend. I congratulate Paul and he tells me about having visited Tallinn. I return to my essay and the guys chat about their bachelor weekend exploits of the night before. They get up to leave, wish my luck with my degree and they’re off, leaving me with an awkward tourist couple who aren’t getting along and what I assume are housewives with a standing Friday morning date.
The tables in this coffee shop are so close, that in essence you are having coffee with twenty strangers and while it struck me as odd, I liked how those two chaps just struck up a conversation with me and some others. It makes the world seem not quite so big and impenetrable.
I’m in New York to visit Blake for a long weekend. In an effort to actually graduate, I’m spending my days working on essays and my nights faffing about town with Blake. Today, my first day of work, took me to a coffeehouse not far from Blake’s office. It’s a favorite of both of ours. It’s locally owned, always full and Blake contends it’s a damn good cup of coffee while I take the tea.
Sitting here, ruminating about the post-World War II resistance in Estonia, I look around and there isn’t an empty chair. It’s 10am on Friday. Why aren’t all these people at work? Some are obviously students, but what about these two thirty somethings next to me?
They’re talking about real estate and Paul (lets call him Paul) is going to make a killing on selling his house/apartment. Joe, the other one, tells Paul that if he has any sense, he should invest in real estate in West Virginia. Has Joe been to West Virginia? Then Joe gets a phone call and Paul, who is seated behind me, but within one foot, says, “So, you Estonian?”
I turn, “Yes, well Estonian-American…”
He’s been reading the essay I am revising over my shoulder.
Joe gets off the phone and joins in, telling me it’s Paul’s bachelor party weekend. I congratulate Paul and he tells me about having visited Tallinn. I return to my essay and the guys chat about their bachelor weekend exploits of the night before. They get up to leave, wish my luck with my degree and they’re off, leaving me with an awkward tourist couple who aren’t getting along and what I assume are housewives with a standing Friday morning date.
The tables in this coffee shop are so close, that in essence you are having coffee with twenty strangers and while it struck me as odd, I liked how those two chaps just struck up a conversation with me and some others. It makes the world seem not quite so big and impenetrable.
posted by Elin at 9:44 AM
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