Coffee Shop Anger

Note: I wrote this to read on stage at the Short Attention Span Storytelling Hour, a monthly gathering associated with the Writers of Central Florida or Thereabouts.

I hang out in coffee shops. I’ll admit it. I’ve become one of those people - a caffiend.

It’s basically the same as hanging out at a bar, but the drug is different.

Mostly, it’s as good thing. Load up on a few cups of the Sumatra stuff, and it’s surprising how much you can get done. I’m very productive in coffee shops. I’m driven. I’m determined. I can do my work, and still get some people-watching in, during those moments when I just have to stop and focus on something else.

Occasionally, I even have a meaningful interaction with someone at a nearby table. Or someone who has gotten up to pee at the same time as me.

Frequently, it’s a single seater restroom, and you have to stand in line with a complete strange. And, usually, It’s not awkward at all. You just kind of look at each other, and go, “Yes. I’ve had coffee. And I’m about to tinkle. You have a problem with that? No? Me neither.”

Then you have a quick convo… It’s almost like another version of speed dating. Caffeine dating…

Sometimes the conversation carries on, either in that moment or the next time you see that same person. And sometimes you just go back to your laptop and headphones.

But there are always the pretentious coffee shop patrons… the people who think they’re cool because they spend so much time hanging out in a coffee shop. Oh God, they’re so annoying.

They’ve been in there so many times that they think it’s ok to roam around and talk to anyone and everyone about… absolutely nothing.

“Hey, dude didn’t I see you here last week?”

“It’s quite possible, since you live here… like the fungus in the ventilation system.”

First of all, they’re usually men. So that’s annoying in itself. Here’s a hint for you… if you’re going to interrupt me when I’m coffeed up, focused, and in the middle of doing something productive, you should have a vagina, ok? It may not seem fair, but… hey… you know… life isn’t fair. And I have priorities.

Secondly, if you’re gonna spend that much time hanging out somewhere, it should be a bar. If you’re that annoying in a bar, someone will punch you in the face. And, if that happens, that’s definitely a story you can come tell me. So I can laugh my ass off while I listen to you explain the bruises and swelling.

So… you sit there, and these hipster wannabees are caffiened up and trying to chat with people. And they’re buzzing around the room like insects. Wouldn’t it be great if somebody invented a spray that would repel people like that? Instead of calling it “Off,” they could call it “Fuck Off.”

I’d use quarts at a time.

“Oh crap, I’m going in this coffee shop, gotta cover myself in Fuck Off.”

 (spraying noise)

“Stay away from me you little bastard.”

I know this is hard to believe, but I’m inherently a polite person. I understand that many of these people are just trying to fit in somewhere. And, usually, they don’t understand social cues.

So, if you’re one of them, and you come up to me when I look busy, I’ll pull my headphones off, stop what I’m doing, and humor you briefly. I’ll do my best to listen to whatever kind of horseshit you think it’s important to tell me. For a few minutes anyway. But you should know, if I start fidgeting with the cream or sugar, inside, I’m secretly wondering if the coffee stirrer is rigid enough to stab you in the eyeball.