I am very committed to my exercise routine. It makes me feel better. It has taken me a bit of time to perfect it, but now I have the ideal workout. Most mornings I walk to my neighborhood Starbucks. I get all of my required daily steps with a side of fresh air and coffee. My Apple Watch measures my activity and heart rate, so I know this form of exercise works. I live a charmed life.
I have begun to recognize several of the regular customers. They are there every day, too. I find this cast of characters in their favorite seats, with their favorite beverages, having their favorite conversations. Content. Living their charmed lives.
The exhausted mom, wearing too-snugalicious yoga pants that fit her better last summer, feeds her naughty little boy a banana at the table on the far side of the room.
The same town cop stops by for a venti latte. He shouts “Eugene!” to the barista. Eugene smiles back, “Johnny!” A routine.
The “Queen” holds court in the front corner. Petite and formal in a pencil skirt and wool jacket that are not new, but impeccable, she sips her espresso from a demitasse cup. No disposable cup for her, thank you very much. Her Russian accent gets more pronounced as her enthusiasm for her subject matter grows. Her subjects, a woman and two older gentlemen that gather round her, hang on every word.
Music plays. Conversations hum in the background. The scent of coffee warms the air. Neighbors gather. We briefly pass through this alchemy every day for a cup of coffee, falling under the spell of our community. Charmed lives.