I arrived at the coffee shop at half past nine.
I returned to the coffee shop that Mallory and I had visited when she was home on Spring Break.
As I turned down the street the coffee shop is on I spied a parking spot right across the street from the coffee shop. A parallel parking spot non the less, not my best skill in life, but I maneuvered into it perfectly. Things were going my way, or so I thought.
As I gathered my purse and writing gear from the backseat, I took note of a few people headed down the sidewalk towards the coffee shop. I didn't give it much thought. I crossed the street and climbed the short set of cement steps to the front door. As I casually pushed open the glass door it narrowly missed hitting the fellow that had gone in just ahead of me.
This coffee shop is not spacious inside but there is a fair amount of distance from the ordering counter to the front door. Currently that distance was being spanned by a line of people waiting to place their morning coffee orders. I forgot to take a couple of things into account when I decided to come here. First of all it was Friday, I have never been here on a Friday. Second, it was Good Friday, a lot of people had off from work.
I gently let the door fall back into place, turned, and walked back down those cement steps. Back to my car in its prime parking spot, tossed my stuff back into the back seat, climbed into the driver's seat and just sat there.
What was I going to do now? Coming up with a back up plan is also not a strong life skill of mine. Generally if things don't go as planned I tend to mentally shut down and develop a bad attitude about the whole adventure. Should I just bag it now and go home?
Then a thought came to me. I wondered if Ida Red's was open. I had been there once before with my friend Jane early last year. Ida Red's operates on interesting hours, generally only open on the weekends and then only for breakfast and lunch. They have amazing home cooked food and the place is always busy.
When I pulled up right outside into an angled parking spot, I took it as a good sign that there wasn't anybody waiting outside.
I arrived at the restaurant at quarter to ten.
When I pushed open the weathered, red wooden door with the glass window it didn't bang into anyone. There wasn't anybody in the tiny waiting area, but there wasn't any empty tables either, so I signed in at the counter. Sarah (1), it's funny one only seems like a lonely number when you have to write it on a waiting list at a restaurant.
Fortunately I didn't have to wait long. When the waitress/hostess asked if I wanted the round two seater table in the corner I enthusiastically said yes. I figured it was a less desirable table so I would be able to sit there for a little while and write without feeling the pressure to vacate the table.
Even though this place is not large, six booths, one four seater table and four two seaters, all of which were full, it was very hard to eavesdrop on conversations. Mainly because there was so much talking going on it was hard to separate out individual conversations. There were two conversations that I was able to catch snippets of. The first one was at the two seater table to my right. Two guys in their 60's. They discussed at a fast moving rate a wide range of topics. Two of particular interest were; the one guy had a model train set up in his basement so he was telling his friend all around his recent acquisitions and how he loves taking pictures of his set ups and posting them on Facebook. Interesting. Then they were talking about a girl that they knew who had put her baby into foster care while she got some counciling. Like I said, a wide range of topics.
The other conversation that stood out was at the booth that was to the right of the two guys. Two ladies probably in their 40's. The one lady was a very loud talker, hence why I could hear her from two tables away. Actually, I think the whole restaurant could hear her. She and husband must be house flippers. She was telling the other lady all about their latest project and how they didn't make any money on the last project.
I seriously considered not writing this week's Coffee Shop Chronicle, because in my mind it was an epic failure. In reality though I need to have failures in order to have successes. I learn from the failures, just as much, if not more than I learn from the successes. In the end it is all about showing up each week and doing the work. I won't get handed the gifts of characters like Mr. Americano and Miss Willow every week, but I must keep trying and keep writing, that is my strategy.
Until next time...