You Want Crazy? We Have An APP For That!

We are a coffeeshop, not an IHOP. But, I get it. Now that I have had a few days to think about it, I get it. People want to come in and sit down and enjoy their coffee, just as I encourage them to (just as I like to do), and somewhere between the four dollars they shell out for the coffee and the comfy chairs they sink into, they lose sight of the fact that we are not an all-night diner or 24 hour pancake joint. As much as I would love to stay another 12 hours so that all people (weary travelers and homeless panhandlers alike) could be ensured fantastic coffee at any hour of the day or night, I, too have places to go and people to see. So, while I now “get it,” the hard truth of our early closing hour that must be painful for some customers to swallow along with their smooth blend of arabica bean coffee that we serve, it does not excuse childlike behavior when I tell them they must leave our store because we are closed for the night.

The other night, after an ARDUOUS day…and I am not being facetious in that way of, “Oh, yeah, really tough day serving cup after cup of coffee…” No, this day was arduous for more reasons than finicky customers, 104 degree heat, and panhandling psychos. It was full of adventure, the kind reminiscent of villains and malevolence, not the kind of adventure of which Disney movies are made, unless you just count the scary parts, like when Mufasa dies on Lion King or when that horrible witch shows up in Snow White to offer the apple, a scene which in and of itself should have put the apple industry out of business for the rest of all time. So, yeah, the day was drawn out into a compilation of events that were a little less than fairytale, but it was almost over, and I was going to be driving home to see my parents, some fun in the sun, two good days of vacation, and I was feeling positive about the close, that all would go well. I would get on the road in good time!

The store had been pretty full all day, and the evening was no exception. We had about six people in the store, which doesn’t sound like many but is practically like a little army when I going around trying to straighten up and sweep, etc. I had the broom and was making “obvious” signs that we were winding down the minutes until it was “push em out the door” time. Everyone was gathering their stuff, unplugging computers, etc… One particular, inconsiderate lady was sitting at a table, punching furiously on the little keys on her phone. She wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. She had just come up to the counter and gotten a refill, so I already knew she was going to be a tough case to crack. Sitting, typing, sipping, typing, thinking, sipping, typing. She “sounded” mad, if one can sound mad while typing. Her purse was on the floor, and I was trying to sweep up the huge pile of crumbs she had created on the floor (I was wondering if ANY of that scone had ended up in her mouth or if the whole thing was crumbled on the floor). She glanced down to watch me sweep near her purse, telling me with her look that if I get my ratty broom so much as ONE INCH closer to her purse, she just might say something to me. We both eye the purse, in a standoff, I’m holding the broom (a much mightier weapon than her dinky cell phone, I might add) and I continue to maneuver dangerously close to the purse, getting every last crumb from around the chair and table legs. I am suddenly uninterested in the rest of the café and I want to get this area completely spotless. The lady, tap-tap-tap-tap, on her cell phone and my assumption is that she is writing about my careless sweeping as I can see her watching me through the corner of her eye. She then takes her right hand and in a flourish, she wipes the remaining crumbs off her table ONTO THE FLOOR. She looks at me, covers the mouthpiece of her phone (I guess out of habit because whoever she is TEXTING can’t HEAR her), and says, “Here…I’ll help.”

Nice, thanks lady. I look at her, and say SWEETLY, “Don’t worry about it. We have people we PAY to do that. Like me… By the way, we closed three minutes ago…” (So, if you can pick up your dirty purse from my clean floor, I can finish cleaning up after you…tap that in a message to your friends) haha. I’m kidding, but not about the story. People get so offended, and I just think it’s funny. I try to be lighthearted about it, because like I said, there have been times when I wanted to hang out somewhere and it’s closed, but that’s usually when I am visiting with my family or with friends. I can’t say that I ever get too mad if I am by myself or just on my phone. That’s what a residence is for…? Right? I guess when we create that inviting of an environment, it’s just hard to let go! Anyway, she left in huff, typing the whole way out the door.

Earlier that day, another homeless lady came in to try and get some money from us. I have a whole, elaborate story about her. I’m going to spare the details because I have told the story about six times, and despite the fact that it makes me laugh every time, the part that I keep remembering, even today, is what she said as she was walking off.

After all was said and done, I wouldn’t give her money (I was standing behind the counter with a long of customers and she had a whole big scheme), and she was gathering her bags to leave the store, she had to have one last hurrah, she proclaimed to the whole line of people, as if we had MADE her come in the store, “You act like this is the MOST IMPORTANT thing I am doing today…I have a LOT of more important things to do today.”

And by making that statement, out loud, without being prompted, she let’s everyone know, that IS the important thing she did that day. She wanted us to know that she was important, she was “busy,” she had a life to live somewhere else doing “important” people things. She watched people come and go, all day, into the store, most of them walking quickly, most of them in a hurry to complete all their tasks for the day, oblivious to the world around them. She had observed people doing that exact thing that on one of her “busy” days sitting outside our store.

What she doesn’t know or doesn’t realize is that I can guarantee that not ONE person would ever utter, “This is not the most important part of the day for me” when they buy their coffee (for a lot of them, it is the most important part of the day, as most addictions go). But, a small part of me, as I watched her walked out, literally waddling out of the store, balancing all those bags full of stuff panhandled from various businesses or pulled out of trash cans, “Good for you…”

And I realized that this was the second time in as many days that I had watched a homeless-type person walking out of the store, me staring at their back, daydreaming for a few seconds, wondering about the human condition and its delicacy- The fine line between crazy and normal and the spectrum of all the stages in the middle. How we can lose ourselves on the completion of the mundane, everyday tasks that make us function as a part of society and how we sometimes find ourselves crippled by the authenticity of real emotion when something grips us or changes our lives in a way we weren’t expecting. As much as we sometimes want to separate ourselves from the crazy people, it doesn’t hurt take a good long look at the person in the mirror and think about the things that help us achieve that amazing balance of living and surviving and thriving. It’s a blessing to know that God controls it all. I just have to trust that truth, and thank Him for the family and friends I have to keep ME from being crazy! Haha!

I turned to the next customer to get his order and he says, “Well, I bet you don’t see THAT every day…”
I said to him, smiling, “Speak for yourself…”