This morning, I had a bit of a perfect moment.
I had an appointment with my therapist at 10, and for some reason I asked him if he wanted me to bring him a coffee.
I don’t know why I asked if he wanted a coffee. I’m sure it was breaking some patient/client rule. You know, he promises not to disclose what I tell him, and I promise not to bring him hot caffeinated beverages.
Part of me thinks I might be the first patient to ever offer him coffee, because his was response was an enthusiastic, “Hell yes.”
This, of course, led to a dilemma- where to get the coffee. I was afraid of what he would read into it. If I got Starbucks would he think that I was denying my individuality and attempting to fit into the mainstream? If I brought Dunkin’ Donuts would he think that I thought I didn’t deserve a decent cup of coffee? If I bought McDonald’s would he think that I’ve just given up?
I had to bring something good, so I decided to go to Bridge City Coffee, a delicious little hipster coffee shop on Wade Hampton Blvd.
I got there early, so I sat for a few minutes before I placed my order. Few things make me happier than a good coffee shop. When I walked in I was greeted by that smell, you know that smell- coffee freshly brewed. Beans slowly roasted. Fresh pastries on display. It’s a smell that says, “Welcome to the day. Everything’s going to be fine.”
I took a seat by the window. Jazz was playing over the speaker. My love of Jazz has been well documented over the years. It reminds me of Clara’s. Clara’s was my college coffee shop, and still my favorite place of all time. The owner, Ron, was a jazz enthusiast, and those long hours I spent in that cafe permanently fused jazz and coffee in the neural passages of my brain. When I heard the saxophone this morning I was back sitting on King Street in 1998, playing chess and drinking coffee when I should have been in class.
The weather outside this morning was grey and rainy and cold. Making this cafe on Wade Hampton Blvd even more inviting. I wanted to post up there all day. Perhaps that made the moment that much more perfect- knowing it wouldn't last long.
I wonder if I was as aware of these moments before. The truth is, it’s hard for me to remember what I was like before. The same I suppose. But different. All I know is that the perfection of that moment hit me hard. I was thankful I had chosen Bridge City. I was thankful that I was able to recognize it in real time.
And thankful that I am able to write about it later.