A good friend of mine and I gathered around a small Starbucks table lasnight and talked for several hours. "You look good!" she said. "No, you look good!" I echoed back. It was one of "those" types of precursors to our conversation that signified a long absence prior to our reconnection lastnight. She's an old friend from high school and I don't really see her or talk to her all that much. I cheerlead-ed with her way back in middle school and we went to church on several occasions together. She's probably one of the most pure and honest people I know in the way of their walk as a Christian in this life, and we haven't kept in touch as much as I'd like to. She loves-loves-loves to chat too, and is really just a big ball of energy.
A large part of our talk was focused on the topic of friends, for no apparent reason other than that's where the conversation led--what made a friend, who our friends really were, and how to be a good friend. It seemed that we both have had a lot of, not necessarily trouble, but struggles, in that area. The common identifier, though, was that we realized we both wanted to be a good friend to others, and that we also desired good friends in our lives. It was a pretty good conversation and one that I would love to have with anyone - any, "friend."
As we talked, I wondered how many secrets the walls of Starbucks knew. Millions upon trillions I'm sure. And it has probably heard more shocking one-liners than we could ever imagine, like "Oh, by the way, I'm a transvestite, and I just thought you should know...[in STARBUCKS!]." Or, I'm getting my third nipple removed. I would like you to be there when it happens." I can only imagine. Those are the funny ones (or perhaps sadly comedic). But then I'm sure there are also those "real" talks like telling someone your son is gay or that you are getting divorced or telling someone that you are really worried about their safety and well-being. Those are the ones that tend to require a double espresso instead of a regular coffee.
Why do we always think we need to take someone to Starbucks, or any coffee joint, to discuss our inmost thoughts? Could it be any more public of a place to discuss them? I guess there is something about the smell of coffee that just brings familiarity, comfort, and ease to our pain in the midst of suffering--and on the flip side, joy and gladness amongst our laughs. Drinking coffee at a coffee shop makes it all the more bearable to deal with our problems in the tough times and all the more enjoyable in the good times.
And to that end I say, bring on the extra dollup!
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