Coffeeshop Happiness

Tunes: Iron & Wine

As most of the people who read this know about me, I'm a huge fan of local coffeeshops. It's irrelevant if they are local to a specific locale, I just like going to a place that is run by friendly folks and that isn't a cog in some corporation. I recently found one in Worcester called The Bean Counter over by WPI where the waitstaff is all hippie and wonderful, but there seemed to be something missing. How lucky I am then that today I was able to find a place called the Acoustic Java down on Main Street by Clark University. The man behind the counter, whom I assume owns the place, is so pleasant-- he seems to be a local professor, as well, which just means he is so much my kind of person. When I told him I had never been in here before, he smiled and was patient with me as I asked him about the sandwiches they serve and the coffee they roast. He later asked about where I'm from and what I do-- it was like being in the south again. People rarely ask those kinds of questions of strangers up here.

I've had the pleasure of watching an awkward first date take place between a raggedy, dirty blonde boy and a pretty, yet plain, blonde girl. They've chatted over their disposable coffee cups for a couple hours now-- as I have puttered away at a few letters of recommendation for past supervisees. I doubt they realize I've been watching them more than writing. They both seem to want to feel comfortable with the other, however most of what their both saying doesn't seem to be sitting well on the other end. It's tragic-- they want so bad for it to work, for the date to be successful. It just isn't going that way.

There's also a smart man in black trench coat in here. Well, he was in here earlier. He shares with me that he wishes he had enough money to collect so many books that he'd devote a whole room in his house to them. There'd be shelves from floor to ceiling, filled with stories and articles and philosophies, bound with leather, tattered, torn and well-loved. There'd be so many books he'd need a ladder that rolled along the edge of the shelves all the way around the room. Like in the movies. I smile and share his wish for a moment.

I look forward to frequenting this place. Perhaps with no work to work on. With a book to read, or a boy to meet up with. Here's hoping!