The air inside is hotter than the air outside.
Metal fans whirl lazily, and all the windows are shut. The room is dark, cave-like. A blackboard with two or three specials hangs on one wall, and the counter girls are all wearing very, very short skirts and knee socks.
They are nearly indistinguishable, one emo haircut blending into another. Their movements are languid, as if in defiance of the caffeine-scented air. The beans are expensive, $17 a pound if you want to bring them home with you.
But the coffee is good, so very, very good.
The pastries, forbidden to me right now, are brought in every day from a local bakery with a reputation for delicious confections and a similarly bad attitude.
What? Customers? We don’t need no stinkin’ customers!
So why do I come here?
I can work here.
The first time I packed up my MacBook and made my way to Caffe Paradiso, it was out of desperation. I couldn’t work at home; looking around my kitchen I found a hundred ways to avoid my keyboard.
Chores - and, to be honest, the sofa - beckoned.
I finally realized that if I ever wanted to take my work seriously, I had to do my writing somewhere other than my dining room table.
Paradiso was mentioned on a few local blogs, some favorable, some not. But most everyone agreed that the coffee is the best in town, and the wifi is free. The shop is also close to home, a mere five minute drive. Two bucks buys me two hours of parking, and no one kicked me out when I lingered without a refill.
So now, every Monday and Wednesday, I pack up my laptop and my notebook, and I sit in a darkened room filled with college kids and graduate students.
They are as colorful as the mugs that line the shelves behind the counter. They are in their prime, showing off their plumage to the opposite sex.
They hook into their sleek PCs and Mac with headphones, drowning out the cheeky musical selections made by the staffers.
There are older men and women, some gray, some my age. I am often the only pregnant one, and there are days when I waddle in, look around and feel completely conspicuous.
I feel them looking at me - a breeder.
I can no longer wear my wedding ring, and I wonder what they think of me.
I wonder what I look like to the girl who makes my order of wheat toast and peanut butter. She delivers the plate to me and glances down at my belly, bemused.
It is strange sometimes, to be surrounded by so much untapped potential. To be near such energy, so many lives just begun or barely lived.
But I look at them, and I see myself 15 years ago. The whole world was ahead of me, as I sat in places like this one, writing in my journal and daydreaming of the day I would write for a living.
Now I do. And I do it from Caffe Paradiso, not in the newsroom at the New York Times.
And you know what?
That’s just fine by me.
The view from my usual table
***
Inspired by Manager Mom’s challenge to write about our virtual offices.
July 14th, 2008 at 7:52 pm
With free wifi and good coffee, I’ll meet you there.
And don’t worry about your breediness. Perhaps it will convince one of them there college boys to put a sock on his soldier!
Link is up… thanks for doing!
July 14th, 2008 at 8:34 pm
I have a free wifi good coffee (roasted right down the block) place that I go to on Mondays & Wednesdays to work. I love it there. There’s something… so comfortable.
July 14th, 2008 at 8:47 pm
I am finally realizing that if I ever expect to write something on a regular basis I need to get out of the house. I know it seems obvious, but one of the appeals of writing is that you don’t have to (I am well-known for staying in my PJs all day). So, this will be my new goal, to get out each week. I have just the spot, much like yours, only it has college students AND lawyers (my town has a college and a courthouse).
I just need a cover if someone I know walks in and I don’t want them to find out I blog!
July 14th, 2008 at 9:14 pm
Yay! Good for you!
I have a coffee shop I go to when I really need to get things done… same scene as you are describing. I feel like a Doofus with a capital D. But it’s my office, dammit, and the cookies there are better than anything I got in my previous places of employment.
July 14th, 2008 at 9:28 pm
Since the smoking ban went into effect, I love to work at CP, esp. in the summer. I can walk there in decent weather, it has great coffee and baked goods, and it isn’t over-air conditioned. And for whatever reason, I actually do get work done there. I agree that the staff is trendier-than-thou, but most of the patrons decidedly are not. Go there in the afternoon or on a weekend, and you’ll even see strollers, babies and toddlers!
July 14th, 2008 at 10:19 pm
I can totally see this. I love that you get to do this for a living. Oh and also? I am totally jealous.
July 14th, 2008 at 10:50 pm
Man, if only I were writing for a living and not one of the grad students you’re wondering about.
July 15th, 2008 at 6:25 am
Coffee AND hot college guys? I’m so jealous!
July 15th, 2008 at 8:23 am
You are such an inspiration sometimes… you remind me that I have a moleskine in my bag, and that I’m in the big city for two days each week.
If I could wrench myself from this comfortable desk and find a cafe somewhere, I would no doubt find words to write about those around me.
There is always the train home too - although getting the pad out usually results in people wider than they are tall descending on me.
July 15th, 2008 at 9:10 am
I need to find a place to write away from my house too. Coffee sounds good right now.
July 15th, 2008 at 12:03 pm
free wifi? good coffee? sounds like heaven to me!
July 15th, 2008 at 12:34 pm
I used to go there every day on my lunch break, back when I worked as a secretary at the dept of dance just down the street (lots of dance majors go there, btw, that may explain the body type of the typical patron!). Oh and I was also pregnant, visiting there up until my 39th week. I have one memory of my big pregnant belly getting in the way of my procurement of lemonade, and I spilled it all over the floor. They didn’t seem too annoyed, pleasantly enough. Anywho, just amused by your similar situation in my once favorite locale.
July 15th, 2008 at 1:12 pm
Sounds so much like Diesel and Bloc 11.
Although my “mom-ness” is well hidden most days, since I rarely bring M to either unless it’s just an in and out coffee grab– so I could just be another slacker or self employed tech whiz when alone.
July 15th, 2008 at 3:23 pm
Jonathan - I don’t think anyone has ever called me inspirational before.
*blush*
July 15th, 2008 at 9:36 pm
Ohhh, she’s claiming a table…look out world!