Please be amazed, devoted followers, I’m about to write something in (and about) a coffee shop. I know that I have harped on about this topic too often and that I have – on several occasions, I think – vowed to never do it again. But I can lie as often as I want; this is my blog and I do as I please here.
I’ve been writing for the last two days in the biker bar of all coffee shops…biker as in 10-speed. After months of Starbucks mothers and indignant hippies at the Coffee Republic, I have finally found a coffee shop frequented by mobile people, none of whom want to stick around inside the shop. That’s where I come in. It’s true, I am a little ashamed since I haven’t been on my bike in months and when I did bike it was in the stately commuter way, not the hardcore/spandex fashion.
Regardless, it is quiet here and although there is Christmas music playing it isn’t too loud and the employees seem annoyed by it as well. The chairs aren’t all that comfortable but the internet is free.
Mostly the people who frequent this place make me wish that I was more into nature than I am. They are all talking about how many miles they’ve ridden and they drink the regular drip coffee. Last night while at work I contemplated buying some hiking boots (they were a good deal and I was cold) and then I forced myself to stop and contemplate when I was likely to wear them.
Sure, I could wear them stomping around town, leaving large muddy tracks all around the grocery store. But it was unlikely that I would be out in nature with them, hiking around and getting them properly broken in. It is also not likely that I will ever ride a bike for several miles...but I don't mind stealing wifi like I will someday.
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