Nice Girls in Coffee Shops
Okay, this is how this all started. SEVERAL years ago, and by several, I think I mean about twenty-two, I wanted a coffee shop. I had this dream that when I was an adult, I would own and run a coffee shop. I would visit with my customers, and we would talk endlessly about all kinds of hilarious, massively intelligent, deeply philosophical and highly poignant topics. I knew what this coffee shop was going to look like, going to feel like, and who I would be within that coffee shop.
Life didn't quite work out the way I had dreamed, back when I was seventeen. Wow, that first sentence seems like it could almost be the words to my next song, doesn't it? Unfortunately, in order to have a next song that would mean I had to have a last song. I have yet to write a song. Actually, I've written a lot. I've just never put any of it to music. Nonetheless, all of the books full of all of the songs I've written are sitting right here next to me, right now.
But back to the coffee shop. My coffee shop was going to have brick lined walls and lots of dark wood, and on at least one wall there was going to be nothing but floor to ceiling book shelves with books by people like Steinbeck and Hemingway and lots of poetry. It would be a smoking facility, so that people could smoke cigarettes and cigars and pipes and whatever else they wanted to smoke (it's my fantasy). There would be couches and mood lighting and comfortable club chairs and totally hip music (like Bob Dylan and John Prine and Cowboy Junkies and Lucinda Williams) and ONLY extremely cool, intelligent people would be there. In the evenings I would have open-mike for accoustic musicians and beatniks and my customers would wear all black and never be anything but amazingly deep.
I would have lived upstairs from this coffee shop, in a loft decorated with nothing but mid-century modern items. I thought I would have some sort of extremely intelligent dog (or not) and I would never want to leave my coffee utopia. Downstairs from my home, I would find all of my super cool extremely intelligent friends, and there we would discuss all of the amazingly wonderful reasons we were alive.
Reality (here is where you would hear some kind of extremely sad or angry music - you could take your pick from any of the artists I named above already).
Reality was fine. It wasn't extremely bad, it wasn't extremely good. The other dream I had took over - the one where I wanted to be a mom. The one I chose over the single life, the one where I didn't go to college and started working a job that I liked at the time and then it became a career. I never left my hometown. I married young and had three beautiful children right away. The marriage didn't work out. I struggled to support my children and get along with my exhusband. I had a mortgage, house payments, and a dog. A car that broke down regularly, and a social life to uphold.
After I got divorced, I dreamt a little more about my coffee shop. Unfortunately, there was and is still a part of me that wanted to be loved. At that time, I wasn't too discerning about who I should receive my affection from. I chose the wrong man - again. Not that I've ever really been that great about choosing the right man. I'm sure they all have been good men to some extent, but this one didn't work out. Thank God it was apparent early enough. Sadly, it wasn't earlier than the wedding date. Nonethless, I married him, and we were divorced before we were married a year.
Then, there came a chance for the coffee shop. It wasn't the one in my dreams, but it was still a coffee shop.
The building was new. I didn't live upstairs from it. And espresso machines are so loud that it's really hard to carry on a conversation about anything, let alone philosophy. It was only open during the day, and I never had live music there. I tried to play Bob Dylan all the time but my customer base wasn't that crazy about it and neither was BMI. I took out a loan in order to pay my bills and ended up almost losing my house over the whole deal. I also got behind in my rent and found that it is really stressful to go into business with family, especially when you yourself have absolutely no business sense (I'm totally talking about myself here).
However, I did meet some interesting people. I felt like I got to follow my dream (albeit a little altered). It didn't work out. The bills were due. I got a better job. My sister and I recovered. Financially, I'm still recovering, but eventually I will get there.
In the process I learned a few things. One, a person can not live on coffee alone. You need to eat AND sleep in order to have enough energy to make it through the day. Two, if you open a coffee shop inside a courthouse, you're going to have to deal with crack heads, there's just no way around it. Three, life goes on and money troubles come and go. Some days you have it, some days you don't. Oh well. Four, there is no such things as coffee that is too strong. Five, if you have children, you need health insurance.
I am a nice girl. I'm an extremely nice girl. I make poor choices, consistently. I love my kids, and I want to get somewhere with my life. I love (as in can't live without) strong coffee. I need intelligent people in my life, and I don't really care how crazy they are. My vision of loveliness is strong coffee in the morning with someone who is incredibly intelligent, discussing how beautiful I am. What else could I want?
In reality, I want everything I stated above, still. Someday I'll have something somewhat like that. It might not be a coffee shop, but I will still smell coffee when I walk into the door of whatever place makes me feel like it's home. I will be surrounded by highly intelligent people listening to Bob Dylan and discussing things that matter to them. Someday...
Life didn't quite work out the way I had dreamed, back when I was seventeen. Wow, that first sentence seems like it could almost be the words to my next song, doesn't it? Unfortunately, in order to have a next song that would mean I had to have a last song. I have yet to write a song. Actually, I've written a lot. I've just never put any of it to music. Nonetheless, all of the books full of all of the songs I've written are sitting right here next to me, right now.
But back to the coffee shop. My coffee shop was going to have brick lined walls and lots of dark wood, and on at least one wall there was going to be nothing but floor to ceiling book shelves with books by people like Steinbeck and Hemingway and lots of poetry. It would be a smoking facility, so that people could smoke cigarettes and cigars and pipes and whatever else they wanted to smoke (it's my fantasy). There would be couches and mood lighting and comfortable club chairs and totally hip music (like Bob Dylan and John Prine and Cowboy Junkies and Lucinda Williams) and ONLY extremely cool, intelligent people would be there. In the evenings I would have open-mike for accoustic musicians and beatniks and my customers would wear all black and never be anything but amazingly deep.
I would have lived upstairs from this coffee shop, in a loft decorated with nothing but mid-century modern items. I thought I would have some sort of extremely intelligent dog (or not) and I would never want to leave my coffee utopia. Downstairs from my home, I would find all of my super cool extremely intelligent friends, and there we would discuss all of the amazingly wonderful reasons we were alive.
Reality (here is where you would hear some kind of extremely sad or angry music - you could take your pick from any of the artists I named above already).
Reality was fine. It wasn't extremely bad, it wasn't extremely good. The other dream I had took over - the one where I wanted to be a mom. The one I chose over the single life, the one where I didn't go to college and started working a job that I liked at the time and then it became a career. I never left my hometown. I married young and had three beautiful children right away. The marriage didn't work out. I struggled to support my children and get along with my exhusband. I had a mortgage, house payments, and a dog. A car that broke down regularly, and a social life to uphold.
After I got divorced, I dreamt a little more about my coffee shop. Unfortunately, there was and is still a part of me that wanted to be loved. At that time, I wasn't too discerning about who I should receive my affection from. I chose the wrong man - again. Not that I've ever really been that great about choosing the right man. I'm sure they all have been good men to some extent, but this one didn't work out. Thank God it was apparent early enough. Sadly, it wasn't earlier than the wedding date. Nonethless, I married him, and we were divorced before we were married a year.
Then, there came a chance for the coffee shop. It wasn't the one in my dreams, but it was still a coffee shop.
The building was new. I didn't live upstairs from it. And espresso machines are so loud that it's really hard to carry on a conversation about anything, let alone philosophy. It was only open during the day, and I never had live music there. I tried to play Bob Dylan all the time but my customer base wasn't that crazy about it and neither was BMI. I took out a loan in order to pay my bills and ended up almost losing my house over the whole deal. I also got behind in my rent and found that it is really stressful to go into business with family, especially when you yourself have absolutely no business sense (I'm totally talking about myself here).
However, I did meet some interesting people. I felt like I got to follow my dream (albeit a little altered). It didn't work out. The bills were due. I got a better job. My sister and I recovered. Financially, I'm still recovering, but eventually I will get there.
In the process I learned a few things. One, a person can not live on coffee alone. You need to eat AND sleep in order to have enough energy to make it through the day. Two, if you open a coffee shop inside a courthouse, you're going to have to deal with crack heads, there's just no way around it. Three, life goes on and money troubles come and go. Some days you have it, some days you don't. Oh well. Four, there is no such things as coffee that is too strong. Five, if you have children, you need health insurance.
I am a nice girl. I'm an extremely nice girl. I make poor choices, consistently. I love my kids, and I want to get somewhere with my life. I love (as in can't live without) strong coffee. I need intelligent people in my life, and I don't really care how crazy they are. My vision of loveliness is strong coffee in the morning with someone who is incredibly intelligent, discussing how beautiful I am. What else could I want?
In reality, I want everything I stated above, still. Someday I'll have something somewhat like that. It might not be a coffee shop, but I will still smell coffee when I walk into the door of whatever place makes me feel like it's home. I will be surrounded by highly intelligent people listening to Bob Dylan and discussing things that matter to them. Someday...
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