Saturday, April 12, 2008

A nightt at a coffee shop...

It's 11 p.m on Saturday night. I'm feeling yucky and weird. My stomach is acting up, as it has been often doing lately. I make these odd gurgling, churns that sound as though I swallowed a cat. It's gross and bizarre, but not the worst problem to have in the world, and like everything in life, it passes.

Tonight the Observer and I went to Starbucks. Being a downtown popular hang-out on weekends, empty tables are rare. Starbucks has a new table designated for people who use wheelchairs. It's handy, but sometimes I feel a bit guilty when others leave on our account, but this isn't often.

I had trouble getting in the proper position at the table because chairs were in the way. A kind stranger noticed me struggling and stopped to help. She spent about five minutes moving chairs for me. I kept saying sorry and she told me not to. That girl is the kind of person who resembled those I call friends. We only had a brief meeting, but I won't forget her for a while.

The Observer ordered his iced coffee first. I like a few minutes to ponder my choice. After he finished his drink, the Observer knew I really wanted coffee, but was unsure if my unsettled stomach could handle a surge of java power. I also didn't want to cause a production getting out of the spot that I had found after so much effort. The Observer sweetly ordered me a decaf and it was on the house.

Even though I feel yucky, I enjoyed the time at Starbucks. There's a sign in the store near me that says, "Life happens over coffee." I agree.


1 comment:


see you this sat. my love.