Coffee Spills

What I hear and see and think about at the coffee shops I patronize.
Brisk. Fresh. Well-balanced. Occasional nutty and bittersweet overtones.
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Saturday, February 27, 2010

Harold, Jim, Mrs. Friendly and others

I see Harold every Saturday morning. He stopped at my table as usual and asked what I was writing. I've tried to explain web logs (blogs) to him, but if you've never seen one, it's hard to imagine. Who reads them, he asked. Not too sure, I said, but I'm a good writer. Jim stopped by too to ask me where the Wall Street Journal was. Another lady waved and spoke--don't know her name. Mrs. Friendly (don't know her name but she's friendly to everyone) mentioned that she was tired of snow. Chatted with the manager. He hasn't yet looked at the Panera's fan page for 5 points that I started. He and another clerk told me about FB on their cell phones, but my eyes glaze over at the complexity of it--just like Harold when I tell him about blogs. When I left, Jim had decided to read the Columbus Dispatch, instead.



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