The Social Mores of Coffee
Frank & Joes — Observations in a Coffee House, December 2024
We have stopped our morning's activity of saving the world for a moment of respite. The weather is doing little to inspire us today. So we need a chemical intervention. Well, she does, and by extension, so do I. Coffee has no appeal to me. I cannot get over the bitterness and have no interest in doctoring it to a palatable state. My partner of 33 years though, absolutely loves the stuff.
Intervention is the wrong word... re-creation is more like it. It is a marvel at the change in countenance, personality and general outlook that a cup of coffee can have on her. A somber and even gloomy woman is miraculously replaced with a high energy, non-stop chattering, the-sun-is-always-shining-somwhere kind of entity. She becomes a half-human-half-ray of light. She becomes trans-human.
While she is mid-transformation, A woman with blond hair walks in and stands patiently at the counter. She is trepidatious, as though this is her first time here. The two baristas grind and steam drinks for the drive through. They either ignore the young woman or are just so focused they do not notice her.
Several minutes have elapsed and her patience is wearing thin. The blonde woman walks to the back of the dining area to say hello to her friends, who arrived earlier. I am surprised. Social mores typically command that you say your greetings to friendly faces first, then go for drinks. But, maybe this generation works differently. Or they are a work or study group, less bound to the standards of friendship.
She is early 20’s, ripped jeans in the fashion of our times and a billowy white blouse that does little to flatter her youth and beauty. Think: pirate blouse. The outfit isn't exactly lounge-wear. It has a formal quality to it in material and color. But in fit and form it feels like the kind of thing one would bop around the house in on Saturday morning.
She begins tapping her fingers impatiently on the counter, having waited far too long for service. Her body language is now screaming 'excuse me!' But the Gen z-ers are both functionally deaf and blind to their would-be patron. She will wait an additional 5 minutes before they notice or acknowledge her. The patience of Job, this one.
Meanwhile, my lark goes on and on about a family we know with a pest infestation. She is frustrated at how the family is handling matters. Half-measures and, as is typical of them, ignoring suggestions. That last quality is why I have applied a tourniquet to our relationship. For 10 years I have poured myself into them like an extension of my family but not only do they ignore direction and counsel, they seem to go out of their way to invite trouble and discord. It is too much for me. That bridge is burned. But my darling wife is still learning that lesson. So, I listen patiently and make notes and sketch vignettes of the moment.
Our time here is over and we must go. Billowy-blouse blonde finally got her hot drink and is at the back of the coffee house babbling with her friends. The baristas have retired to the bowels of this place, probably to check their phones to see what life-altering moments are being shared on ticktock or instagram or whatever the kids of today are using to turn their brains into jello.
And we, we re-engage in our universally mandated mission to save the known world. Sub-and trans-human team at work to make everyone's dreams come true.
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the social mores of coffee
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