Coffee & Intimacy

Back when I was 17 (WAY back when the hair bands ruled the world), I worked in a neighborhood coffee/donut shop a few blocks from home. We had orange laminate swivel chairs, white bakery bags and behind the counter, a peg board with several mustard yellow, coffee-stained mugs. Most of these had names written on them in permanent marker, some half-rubbed off with time.
Nearly every day, a gentlemanly white-haired man in an old green anorak came shuffling and smiling through the door with his wooden cane. His name was Archie and as I recall my Dad knew him from back before the steel plant closed. Most days I was able to have Archie's cake donut and mug of coffee ready before he reached into his pocket, and he always left me a tip. His "tab" was always under a dollar, and he always paid in dimes, and left an extra one for me.
25 years after I worked in that donut shop, I can still smell the sweet (but often cloying) cinnamon and glazed sugar, and I can still picture Archie coming through the door, chuckling and calling me his "Blonde Bombshell" with a grand-fatherly wink. Archie passed away almost that long ago, and the donut shop has been gone more than 5 years. While not a tragedy, it was a fixture, as were the not-so-mythical Gramma's Cafe that you may have had in your neighborhood.
Now we have Starbucks, and if your town is large enough you have Peet's, Caribou, Dunkin Donuts or Dunn Brothers where Starbucks hasn't moved in. Please don't get me wrong, this java junkie of the Midwest loves her lattes, they fuel my days and my life.
I often miss that counter-top intimacy, though. The girls that make our local coffee counters hum, I have no idea what most of their names are, and the faces change too quickly. This makes me feel a little sad. I find myself making a concerted effort to be friendly and chatty, and they don't always have any more time than their often harried customers, myself included.
While it's highly unlikely that your local coffee shop will be mounting a peg board for your plastic, Sharpie covered tumbler, that certainly doesn't preclude our favorite shop from becoming a friendly neighborhood gathering spot. We do what we can, yes? Get to know the names of the baristas, introduce yourself. And smile.