A few years back, I was a barista. It was a fun job, for the most part, and I always went home smelling like coffee. In my book, that was a good thing. Now that I’m on the other side of the espresso machine, my favorite thing about coffee shops is that I usually meet a friend or two there.
I’m not sure what it is, but when we sit and chat amidst the sound of grinding beans and murmured chit-chat, it feels like I’m getting a giant, invisible hug. It feels comfortable and homey.
Over the years I have laughed, cried, wondered, dreamed and shaken my fist at the world in coffee shops. The confidences shared, the disappointments spread over two sets of shoulders instead of one, and the memories made, supercede the beverage. Yet, I cannot imagine recalling the time without recalling the coffee.
While I love tea a whole lot, tea is more of a solitary beverage for me. Coffee begs to be shared with a loved one. And now I must excuse myself. I’m off to meet a friend at a coffee shop. Big smile.