"In vacant or in pensive mood..." I am: Bekah; 24; Law Student / Favorite Things: Carbs (so there!), Johnny Damon, Smiling at babies, Grilled cheese, Comfortable silence / Favorite Supreme Court Justice: Brennan / Favorite Wilson: Owen by an inch / Today's Special: Song: Elliott Smith, "Bled White"; Quote: "You know, there's like a butt-load of gangs at this school. This one gang kept wanting me to join because I'm pretty good with a bowstaff." Please love me: mmbekah@yahoo.com


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I spend a lot of time studying in coffeehouses because the library is too depressing. Besides, the library is boring because the only people I get to see are law students, and I see (and hear) enough of them in class. At the coffeehouse, I get a huge slice of Americana--New Orleans style (read: extra hot sauce and butter). It's just such a fascinating place to people-watch. There are a good number of students there--mostly med students--and the lucky people who have time to just go out for coffee on a Tuesday night with their friends. But then there are the full-on weirdos. These are the ones that really impress me. There's one man who comes in all the time with a Loony Toons black tanktop (eew) and a crazed look in his eyes, orders two (always two) poppyseed bagels with extra cream cheese, and sits and stares at people as he eats. (I guess I shouldn't be critical of that part, since I spend a lot of time staring at people too. But then again, mercifully, I'm not a creepy man in a Loony Toons tanktop). Another man always comes in with a Rite Aid bag full of musical compositions and sits for hours just looking at them, frantically writing in his little notebook. Once I even saw a man come in with a girl who must have been something like 16 (not his daughter) and proceed to take dozens of pictures of her--reading, looking out the window, standing across the street. It was messed up. I would seriously like to know what these people do for a living. I guess the irony is that as high and mighty as I'd like to feel, I'm as much a fixture of the place as they are. The employees know my name and how I did on my finals. Maybe they'll set up a cot for me in the back?

I had one really unfortunate experience at the coffeehouse when I made the mistake of asking an older man if he was using one of the two extra chairs at his table. He looked at me and screamed, "You can't just come in here and rearrange the place, like you live here! What if I want to put my feet up??" Startled, I apologized and attempted to walk away, but this guy was not finished--oh no. The hatred in his blackened soul was still smoldering. He continued, "This is an establishment! Some people pay money to come here and get coffee." Against my better judgment, I responded by pointing to my coffee and saying sheepishly, "I paid money to come here," to which he responded, "To do what?? Turn it into your personal office?" During this coversation, one of the employees was looking at me with pity. I finally escaped, as the guy continued to grumble. I've never experienced anything like that before. It was surreal. The employee came over and apologized, and said I could have a refill on him. But I wasn't as disturbed by the actual event as I was by the thought that someone could have a reaction that strong to a request for a chair. His anger was unbelievable. Maybe he was once mauled by a pack of rabid law students.
posted by Bekah at 9:42 AM :: |