I haven’t accomplished much writing today. So, in lieu of staying inside and eating more cereal, I put on jeans and and a belt and drove over to my local Starbucks. In a lot of ways, this coffee shop mirrors my writing. There’s not much else I could do here, except write. I can’t load up the Xbox, make something to eat, or try and socialize with the roommates down the hall; just write. It suits me.
Which is why I find myself solo tonight in the local Starbucks. I got here and checked-in with Foursqure, something else I’ve really come to appreciate as time has gone on. Being able to look back at my history of check-ins and see where I’ve gone has been insightful to my life in general. Dustin Curtis once quipped that Foursquare is the Facebook of the future. I don’t know if that is completely true, but the abstracted version of what he’s saying is that the future of social lies in what we’re really doing. Not just status updates.
Funny place, Starbucks. I remember when they only use to have coffee and a small array of items. Now they have walls of cups, blends and a full on snack bar. That blueberry coffee cake looks good, but it’s a little too expensive for me right now – I haven’t even finished my grande mocha.
Along with coffee, Starbucks has gotten increasingly good at another thing: seating people really close to one another. This is remarkable on two levels. 1.) People don’t seem to notice that the threshold for what could be considered my “bubble” is dangerously near to being crossed, and 2.) people think you can’t hear them talk at low levels from four feet away. Remarkable.
I’m sure I look like such a tool right now. Rocking my Apple Macbook with iPhone set beside me as I drink a grande white-chocolate mocha. Thankfully I have no hair, otherwise I’m sure it would complete the look. Out hipstering the hipsters, maybe I have accomplished something tonight.
My coffee has finally reached the point of equilibrium: I can now drink a steady stream and not viciously raze the small village of my tastebuds with scalding lava. Words are fun.
The barista is pulling out the items from the snack bar now, wrapping them in saran and putting them away for tomorrow. I always knew this sort of thing happened, obviously they can’t leave the food in there indefinitely, but I’ve never actually seen it being done.
My coffee cup is now empty, after I shotgunned the last teaspoon of pure sugary chocolate confection. Decaf probably would have been a better choice for this time at night, but you don’t go to Starbucks to get decaf. That would be like going to McDonalds to get a salad – a complete waste of time. If you’ve already made it into the building, you are bound by societal law to get that Big Mac with fries, er.. mocha with whipped cream.
This has proven productive. Forcing myself to go somewhere where I’d be cornered, literally and metaphorically, into writing has been successful. This was fun.
Sometimes you just need to change up the setting and remove the “crutches” preventing you from doing what you love. Kick those crutches out from under you, and you just might stand. Try it, I’ll take you out for coffee afterwards and we can read the awesome thing you wrote. It doesn’t even matter if it sucks, just so long as you did something to give yourself the opportunity to write again. At the end of the night, that’s what will make all the difference.