This morning, slightly after 6am and with a failed attempt at working out under my belt (not due to you, Marina), I decided to go to Starbucks and hang out and read The New York Times. I have not read The New York Times front to back in years and this was going to be good. I even remembered how to properly fold the paper like all good NYC commuters do so as not to infringe on another rider’s space.

When I got to my local Starbucks, I was greeted by the usual suspects, Gina and Kurt. They prepared a perfect Angry Mama, my own proprietary blend, and I hunkered in to read….and watch. In between the sections of news,  I was soon chatting with old friends. I caught up with Jack’s 4^th and 5^th grade teacher as well as a few ‘strangers’ also reading the paper. I began to feel the pace of the morning traffic between the drive thru and the walk in crowd. The jolt of that triple shot was beginning to ease my angst and the feel of the paper in my hands felt like the old days.

Maybe it’s the pending holiday season, maybe the weather change, or perhaps an upcoming appointment with my oncologist but I get this way every once in a while. It’s not depression or sadness. It’s almost ambivalence. I need a win in the win column; a break in the mundane.  I even painted my nails red to no avail. So I texted my sister Amy to come hang out for a few and within minutes, she was there.

Amy is a wonderful sister and a great person. She is kind and loving and I should apologize to her now, once and for all, on the internet for all to see, for the torment I caused her when we were little. I’m sorry I stole your coloring book, or wouldn’t let you hang out with my friends. Hopefully I will have a lifetime more to spend with you and share a few more Martini’s from LT’s.

So off she goes to work and the people continue to flow in and out. I half listen to custom drink requests, discussions over last night’s TV shows and a recap of what’s new in their lives. High school kids come and go with $6 drinks with not so much as a smile or sincere thanks to the people working so hard to make the drinks for them. Perhaps they should try ‘serving the public’ and see if it changes their view. Most people are regulars and chat up a storm while waiting for their coffee and breakfast. These people work hard and never lose their composure. Ever. At least from my view from the corner.  Maybe in the back room someone does what I used to do when I was in High School and worked at Ponderosa Steakhouse– scream in the freezer. It was so cathartic!

The New York Times and I parted friends in a little over 90 minutes as I just skim the sports section. The last bit of the Angry Mama is ready to be finished and I neatly fold the paper for the next person who may be sitting in the chair and needs that solace for a while.

So off to work I went. I didn’t transplant an organ to save a life, or pen a Pulitzer Prize winning novel. Tomorrow is another day, thank God.