There’s been a feature lately on the New York Times website that invites readers to stare at a painting for 10 minutes and do nothing else.
I tried it, I got bored. Also, I really don’t need another reason to stare at my laptop screen. Still, it’s a good idea, as an exercise in focus, and Wednesday morning, eight a.m., I wondered, why not try the same thing at the coffeeshop around the corner from my office? Ten minutes of listening, looking, studying myself in that situation, with a notebook in hand.
Turns out, I enjoyed it so much, I stayed an an hour.
Some observations:
—I ordered an espresso and took a table facing the counter where people order drinks. Immediately there’s so much to take in, and it’s not even busy yet. The shadows as people come and go. The sounds of cars on the street. The repeated motif, back and forth, of baristas greeting customers, customers placing orders, then the clamor of a drink being made: the motor of the coffee grinder, the hiss of the steaming wand, the whack and click of a portafilter being locked into place.
—In ten minutes, maybe half a dozen customers come through. The temperature’s in the low sixties outside, the morning is misty and overcast, and most people are wearing sweaters or sweatshirts. Still, not a single person has ordered anything hot.
—A middle-aged couple, man and woman, sit next to me, with cups of tea. The woman talks quietly about problems she’s having at work. The man affirms her, reassures her of her strengths and smarts.
“I just hate to feel trapped,” she says at one point.
“You hate to feel trapped and you shouldn’t need to feel that way,” he says. “It’s a really tough situation.”
She takes his hand under the table. It’s all very nice.
—Twenty minutes gone already? I haven’t looked at emails or texts. My phone is on silent. I haven’t thought once about any problems or worries. Jazz plays quietly over a speaker—The Modern Jazz Quartet, then Ella Fitzgerald—and I decide to stay the hour.
—More things noticed: One barista wears a T-shirt that says “DON’T ASK ME 4 SHIT.” One customer wears a green baseball hat that says “Spreadsheets” across the crown. Over the course of the hour, nearly everyone wears sneakers, with women favoring On Running and adidas, and men favoring New Balance (including me) and Hokas. The exceptions are guys who appear to be day laborers, who wear thick-soled boots, and women in the occasional low heel.
—Overall, most customers are a mix of what I surmise are locals and people working in the neighborhood. There are people walking their dogs, people who just finished exercising, and people who just woke up. All races, all ages, many women (also of all ages) wearing slippers and sweats.
Almost everyone orders their drink to go and uses Apple Pay. Almost no one orders traditional milk. One in every three or four customers orders something to eat—the turkey-gruyere croissant is the most popular that I overhear, blueberry muffins are number two.
A friend once told me that you can guess from fifty feet a person’s sexual orientation based on how they carry their coffee cups while walking. Basically, straight men typically clutch a cup by its sides, with their elbow bent at a right angle, and everyone else—“the girls, the gays, the theys”—will hold it by the lid in a claw-like grip. Who knows?!
—The most popular drink? Iced latté with oat milk. After that, it’s a mix of iced cold brew, iced cappuccino, iced mocha latté, iced Americano, and several “cereal milk lattés,” also iced.
One man orders a pour-over coffee and sits down next to me. The coffee takes ten minutes to make. “It’s a special treat to myself,” he tells a woman sitting on the other side of him. When it arrives, the aroma is bracing, even from a few feet away, and richly caramel-ish.
—Not a single man in the hour wears his shirt tucked-in except for a young guy with a T-shirt belted into his jeans. Also, not a single man is clean-shaven. Granted, this is Los Angeles, and not in the financial district, but still.
—I notice how much calmer I feel during this exercise. To a point I feel like I’m in a trance. I’m smiling, I feel lighter, I ought to do this more often!
—Thinking about joy: Several times, a woman enters the shop with a baby strapped to her chest and other women nearby will smile. (No men do.) Women also smile at the baristas when they get their drinks. Men smile at each other if they recognize a friend or acquaintance—this happens three times while I’m there—but that’s mostly it. Everyone smiles if somebody’s dog sniffs their leg.
—Speaking of men: almost to a man, the older men wear tighter pants than the younger men. For women, after maybe 50 customers, not a single one wore her hair above her shoulders except for one woman with a shaved head.
Time’s up. I close my notebook, thank the baristas, and walk out refreshed. In the hour, I overheard two conversations about stress and mental health. Two conversations about the upcoming presidential election. At least two conversations about being frustrated by recent dates. I sympathize with all of this, but I gotta say, after all my attention extended outward, I personally feel a sense of ease, a balm, a relief.
What do I take back to my desk? The knowledge that no one likes cow milk these days, and men should smile more, if only at babies.
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What the what
“Meditations in an Emergency” is a weekly essay from writer Rosecrans Baldwin about something beautiful. Paying subscribers receive a Sunday supplement with three-plus things to love, plus the monthly “Humans Being Humans” ballyhoo.
Rosecrans is a correspondent for GQ, a contributing writer at Travel + Leisure, and the bestselling author of Everything Now, winner of the California Book Award. Other books include The Last Kid Left and Paris, I Love You but You’re Bringing Me Down. His debut novel, You Lost Me There, was a New York Times Book Review Editors’ Choice. For magazine articles, bio, contact info, blah blah blah, try rosecransbaldwin.com.
You Big Sweetie You! Cow's milk only if it's organic full cream! All or nothing decadence. And: isn't it amazing that there is so much to see and the more you look the deeper it goes.
file:///Users/sallybschendel/Pictures/Photo%20Booth%20Library/Pictures/Photo%20on%2010-19-24%20at%208.22%20AM.jpg
Hi CB! the above is my drawing I did in the radiology department while waiting for my hubby to get an x-ray; I just sat and drew what I saw... and it really helps me see what is in front of me and is a lovely way to spend time... so I thought of your essay. Thanks! hugs, Sal