I am not a coffee drinker but I spend a lot of time at coffee shops. I read and study books, from philosophy to economics to history. I also write, though I only recently began writing again with a keyboard after a six-month hiatus of sorts. Mainly, I enjoy spending time in coffee shops because they are the best places for me to study and write without too many distractions.
It's snowing here in Old Colorado City. Few tourists walk by; I suspect the ongoing global pandemic of the coronavirus has likely contributed to the few feet pounding the sidewalks. Inside, the aroma of a variety of coffees and espressos and whatever else they make here serenades my senses. It's warmly lit, homely and cozy, and the smell of coffee is a bit like heaven.
From an early age, I have always loved the smell of coffee. My mother used to have a Mr. Coffee coffee maker, a useful tool for working moms back in the 1970s. Each morning at promptly 6AM, the acidic smell of freshly-brewed coffee permeated throughout the house. Even today, after nearly 50 years, my mother still brews her coffee at 6AM, though she uses a different coffee maker than the one I grew up with.
But for some reason, I just never acquired the taste for coffee. I really don't know why. The most I could ever stomach was the once-a-year-let's-have-a-coffee thrill. Coffee tastes okay with and without cream, with or without sugar, honey, or brown sugar, or whatever people add to their coffees. Regular coffee or decaffeinated coffee are one and the same to me. I don't like espressos or cappuccinos, either. I just am not a coffee drinker.
At Starbucks, I always ordered an iced chai, even during raging blizzards outside. Some coffee shops offer iced chais though they rarely ever taste as good as the ones made at Starbucks. At other coffee shops, though, if iced chais or iced teas aren't on the menu, I'll order a smoothie if offered. As a last resort, if a coffee shop has nothing for me to drink, I'll order a small snack and a glass of water, like I've done today.
At the Starbucks I go to in the mornings, homeless people frequently come inside to use the bathroom, get warm, ask for money and food, and so on. It really has never been a big issue for me. They don't bother me, at least. But through the years, I've seen people arrested, fights, threats, and then there was the time several years ago when a baby was born in the bathroom. I see her nearly 80-year-old father around Manitou Springs from time to time.
I see friends and literal neighbors at Starbucks. We exchange small talk. It is a good way to keep up with happenings in Manitou Springs and the west side of Colorado Springs. Sometimes, we talk politics, and it's almost always light-hearted and without anger or extreme negative commentary. Generally speaking, Starbucks is a sort of meeting place for locals to get together and chat.
The other local coffee shops are usually smaller and quieter than Starbucks. There's usually only one or two employees. And the environment or ambiance of the coffee shops varies wildly though they all share a commonality with regards to providing a quiet place for people to read, write, and even chat. Starbucks is a noisy place; here at the coffee shop in Old Colorado City, only two women are sitting at a table nearby, and the rest of the place is filled with furniture and books but no other humans. And this is when I like coffee shops the best.
The first time I came to this coffee shop a few days ago, I was happy to discover a group of sign language interpreters practicing while a Deaf woman nearby was chatting on her laptop with a Relay interpreter. Within minutes, we all said hello to each other, and new friends were made. I came back two days later, and again, and here I am.
An assortment of pillows piled together at the two large windows of the coffee shop are ideal places to sit and snuggle up to a good book. Or maybe even write, though I'm at a wooden table with a small ficus plant as a pretty prop. It's a toasty warmth inside. It's swirling snow outside. The lone female employee walks over to my table and asks me how everything is and I tell her it's great and that I like her coffee shop. She smiles and thanks me. Suddenly, I feel like it matters to her that I'm here at her coffee shop. The first time I ordered from this coffee shop, I politely explained I didn't like coffee, and we went through a list of teas that she could make before I ultimately decided on a small breakfast burrito and a glass of water.
I love my Starbucks in the mornings. I enjoy the daily banter with the locals, too. And the staff at Starbucks all know my name and know how I prefer my iced chais. But this new coffee shop is beckoning me to call it my favorite and most preferred. It's quiet. Visually quiet, too. Few humans. Easy wifi. And the breakfast burritos are pretty good, too.
Maybe one of these days, I'll live a little dangerously and order an espresso of some kind and ... well, you know, drink it here at the coffee shop. I mean, isn't that the point of coffee shops? To drink coffee? Maybe not. Maybe the point of a coffee shop in today’s world is a form of escape away from something, though I'm not sure what. Or maybe it's just that the smell of coffee itself is what makes it all so worthwhile. I don't know.
I like coffee shops. I love this one. And no, I won't name it except that it's in Old Colorado City, and even with that, I've said too much. Go find your own coffee shop, a place that takes you home whenever the smell of coffee grabs you. I found mine.
