I sat in the coffee shop… smelling the dark aromas of the coffee beans and listening to the intent conversations between couples around me. Gossip about boyfriends, class schedules, team projects, gardening plans, and the upsetting loss of the hometown basketball team were all interspersed around me like orbiting moons.
Quietly I sipped my coffee, loving the chocolate flavor within the ceramic cup. Café Mocha. Truly a gift from the Gods. Perhaps it was not fire that Prometheus stole, but mocha instead. My attention returned to the small wooden table before me and I let my gaze follow the grain of the wood to the big steel bolts holding the black metal legs to the wooden top. Art? For studying these tables were terrible. Too small to place a cup of coffee, an open book, and a tablet of paper. It was just barely big enough to place a laptop computer on, with no room for a book. Coffee had to be place precariously on the edge, or on the floor. But for me and my one single cup of coffee it was the perfect size. I could place my cup in the center of the table and allow my hands to easily wander the full circumference of the table top’s edge.
A small table was also good for business. It allowed one to pack as many customers within the hip locale as possible. More customers, more money. I wonder where comfort fits into the equation?
But there was another wonderful use, a grand design, a truly remarkable purpose for the small table upon which I must believe the true intent of the designer had lain. Beside me, along the brick wall, which helped to give this little room its charm, there sat a couple on opposite sides of their little table. Both were remarkably close, holding hands, sharing a cup of coffee, and smiling into each other’s eyes. Their conversation was of few words, but I suspect had more meaning than the rest of the room combined.
Yes, it is a small table in a small room… but I love it. For there are tables outside and there are other coffee shops around as well with ample room to stretch. Yet this one was cozy, it was intimate, and it was mine… just as everyone else in the tiny little room felt it was theirs.
And I liked the coffee here as well.
(This is at my favorite coffee spot in Houston… Diedritch Coffee at Dunlavy and Richmond)