Scenes From a Coffice

Scenes From a Coffice

INT. COFFEE SHOP – DAY

Disheveled woman dressed in yoga pants and hoodie enters ramshackle coffee shop. It’s a slow-motion scene, reminiscent of a Scorsese film, as the Rolling Stones “Paint It Black” plays in the background.

I see them all looking at me slack-jawed, the citizenry of the Coffice. They watch as I find my favorite table next to a power strip and slowly, slowly reach into my computer bag. There is a collective gasp as they are all blinded by the sexy, shiny new MacBook Pro I unveil.

Oh, I know they have all been mocking me with my archaic and filthy old Toshiba. Undoubtedly taking bets behind my back on which super virus will be unleashed by my sticky keyboard.

But no, not today. Today I stun them with my firepower.

Put your single soy cappuccino away, little barista. You think you know me? You don’t know me. Give me a double espresso with a Jack Daniels back today, small purveyor of the bean.

Behold! On this magical contraption, I will become a famous writer – a national treasure the likes of which has not been seen since….uuummmm…..I suppose I should read more.

Yeah, so I got a new computer. And I have a bit of a hard on for it too.

I’ve been tied to the PC world for what feels like an eternity so getting to join the hip, young world of THE APPLE (said with reverb) is a better means of aging denial than getting a tattoo or a piercing….or hormone replacements.

Lest this turn into some Apple commercial (though, call me if anyone wants to do that) let me enlighten you on my insecurity about EVER being uncool.

I’ve always thought that I was a very cutting edge and hip person. My guess is that most people who are decidedly NOT cool think the same thing about themselves. So, trust me, I know I may well fall into this category.

Working in a Coffice is where you see the coolest people IN THE WORLD. They are unshaven, unwashed, hopped up on “the bean” but are working their stubby little fingers to the bone to do something spectacular.

If they didn’t believe this, they’d be sitting in an office cubicle with much better hygiene.

They are artists, entrepreneurs, writers, developers, and drug dealers who are working outside the system, thereby flipping off “the man”. I love these people down to the tips of their dreadlocks and feel like I am always trying to be worthy of their acceptance.

Let’s paint the scene of a REAL Coffice.

A true Coffice is an old gas station with a small Guatemalan in the back room roasting beans.

The baristas are only slightly higher than their clientele and can also give you a tattoo in the back by the bathrooms on their breaks.

The manager spins vinyl at local raves on weekends. (They still have raves, right? Is that what the youngsters are calling them?)

So, rest assured, if you are at any coffee shop that has anything better than a spray painted piece of plywood as its sign, you are not really at a Coffice (always capitalized, by the way).

Coffices push me to create some new idea, thought, sentence, whatever. Thereby, rendering me immortal.

That, and it always seems to provide the perfect soundtrack to my life.

INT. COFFEE SHOP –  LATER THAT DAY

Disheveled woman packs up her creative magic box as the spell is broken and, amidst many jump shots of admiring eyes, leaves to the sounds of  “Stuck In the Middle With You” by Stealer’s Wheel.

FADE TO BLACK

24 Responses »

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  5. Saved it up to read your latest at home instead of at my “corporate communications” job. Felt very good to laugh out loud freely – keep it coming. Never doubt you are reaching your audience eh?

  6. Ack! It happened again. Totally busted reading your blog while at work, because I snort-laughed out loud at Scenes from a Coffice. Especially love “baristas only slightly higher than their clientele.” I looove this blog!

  7. Hi Irene!
    This cracked me up! You’re hilarious! Thanks for the laugh this morning. I actually just leapt off the full-time job wagon to pursue my dreams in the “oh crap, where is the money going to come from?” freelance writing world, so I would love to meet up at the Coffice with you and share a cup. We’d have to share your cup though, since I won’t be able to afford my own! ha! The only thing is I don’t drink coffee. Do they serve rum? Enjoy the Mac!
    Leslie

  8. My Coffice is next to my kitchen. Late in the day (ok, sometimes not so late) it miraculously turns into my Car, and I don’t mean automobile ;)

  9. I am jealous for two reasons: 1. You have a Coffice, 2. You have an iMac.

    I wish I could stick it to the man and earn my living outside the lines. So far, no one wants to buy my art, written or otherwise. For now, I will continue to fly my freak flag from my cubicle, looking forward to the day I can stick up my middle fingers at corporate life and say, “see ya later, bitchez!”

    I am very dramatic.

    • Ah, but you are in the eye of the creative storm with the job you do have! The amount of material you must come across every day….I’m jealous of that! By the way, I do have a “normal” job. I just get to do it remotely so that kicks a bit of ass, I will admit!
      As for the Mac – every girl should have one. Now, I must be alone with mine.

  10. I needed a mental break from the latest corporate writing gig, looked up, and saw this. This amusing reflection on what it’s like to be a freelance/entrepreneurial/creative type working on the left (or as my brother calls it, the best) coast.

    Thanks for the laughs, lady! Keep it coming.

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