I was standing in line to get my daily fix at the local coffee brewery. It’s a non-franchised establishment with brick wall displaying artwork from local artists. All organic foods and coffees and very faithful patrons. There was a pregnant hippy standing in front of me buying decaf organic beans and an older gentleman behind/beside me whose mother had obviously not taught him the ever so important lesson that it isn’t polite to stare. He looked like he had fallen off his tractor and mistakenly stumbled into this part of town. I had never seen him there before but he seemed very comfortable in his surroundings; though he didn’t quite fit with his flannel shirt and his locked gaze. I pretended for a few minutes to not notice him in my peripheral vision, but as he inched awkwardly closer I turned to acknowledge him, as if my direct eye contact would magically make him cower back in fear and maintain a comfortable distance. However, I’m told I have a rather non-threatening demeanor, so my look backfired and sent out a “welcome” sign rather than a “please stop that” sign.
Instead of looking away and stepping back as I had hoped, he smiled and said, “You’re not from around here. I can tell.” In fact I had lived in Springfield, Missouri for about two years and felt that I had integrated with the natives quite easily.
“Not originally, but I’ve been here for a while now.” I don’t know why I felt the need to indulge the awkward-starer? The hippy woman was having a lengthy conversation with the barista about the origin of her beans and it seemed I would have some time on my hands before my turn to order would come. I determined the stranger was obviously as determined to stay in line as I was, and since my attempts to remain ignorant of his existence had now been thwarted, I could do him this small favor and be as cordial as one can be when strange old men are staring you down. If I’d already had the caffeine that fuels my brain so well, I might have had the skill to duck and weave out of this exchange, but I was at a loss.
“You have different genes than the folk around here.” At this I found myself defenseless. He had combated my desire for him to go away with a nicety. I smiled, I hope genuinely, since I do believe the strange old man was paying me a compliment. I then quickly took those three steps forward which previously felt so far away and placed my order.
“The biggest blended caramel sugary coffee drink you’ve got please.” I think of coffee as more of a caffeinated dessert than a morning pick-me-up. With that first sip everything seemed right. The creepy staring man had become a pleasant fellow. The soon-to-be-hippy-mom had settled into a comfy couch in the corner with her friends and was enjoying the day.
There can be two things learned from this experience. First, standing in lines make up so much of our lives, you really have to just suck it up and power through … it’s not always as bad as you think it’s going to be. And second, coffee makes everything that much better.
