As I got closer to my favorite coffee shop, I could tell it was full but I chose optimism, parked my car and went inside. The owner saw me, smiled, then looked around seeing what I had just seen—not a single seat. I kept looking around; maybe I’d missed one. As my eyes looked left for the second time, I saw a man I’d met several months ago at another coffee shop.
I tapped him on the shoulder and said hello. The cap on my head caused him to need a few extra seconds to recognize me. Once he did, we had a great time catching up. He’s always doing interesting work so our exchange was fun.
Once it ended, I optimistically walked toward the counter to place my order. As I approached, the owner walked over to a table and removed a laptop.
“I was saving this table for you,” she said. She had realized I was busy talking, saw the table open up, and knew another customer would get to it before I did.
To say I felt special is basic. I felt chosen. I felt valued far beyond my ability to pay $3 for an Americano—hot, cream & sugar, 12 ounces, please.
Pretty sure I beamed.
