There was a time, probably pre-pandemic, though certainly through the bulk of my final working years, when Sunday morning would begin at a coffee shop. Brew HaHa dominated, though at times I would vary the location to Einstein's, Starbucks, or Panera, mostly near each other. My agenda mostly included some quiet time to plan the upcoming week. I kept a black canvas zippered pouch with my supplies: colored pens, colored highlighters, my semi-annual projects grid, a pad of 8.5 x 3.25 in paper culled from some fundraisers that send them in the mail, and a cardboard of the same size harvested from the back of a used up pad. With pouch in my hand, I walked over to the counter to order my brew for the morning. Typically they came in four varieties: dark, blonde, flavored, and decaf. Mostly I ordered dark, though I could be swayed by the morning's flavoring. When given the option, I preferred a large porcelain mug which I would sip on site. I put the pouch where I claimed my seat, then took the mug over to the fixings stations. Half & half most weeks, cinnamon or nutmeg, on occasion brown sugar or cocoa. Then I returned the ready to drink coffee to the table. From the pouch I extracted five colored pens of which I had several brands: black, blue, green, red, and purple. Then my semi-annual grid, a page of the pad with supporting cardboard, and two highlighters in different colors. As I nursed the morning's coffee creation, I planned my desired pursuits for the coming week and for that Sunday.
I could make coffee more economically at home, but too many distractions. The pandemic changed my Sunday mornings indefinitely. No longer working, I needed less quiet time alone. I created My Space, designed for me to sit with my thoughts, though with everything I needed, including that pouch, within arm's length. I had purchased a Keurig Mini-Express, a vast improvement over the Mr. Coffee generic K-cup unit that eventually failed. I had K-cup varieties of my preference and mesh inserts to fill with my own ground coffee. I had two workable French presses. No need to go out for coffee.
My personal habits also changed for the better. At a specified time two mornings out of three, I walked briskly on a home treadmill. That time coincided with the times I'd be whiling my Sunday mornings at a coffee shop two weeks of every three. And having committed to this physical activity on a priority schedule, I felt more energetic. Some time later, I abandoned my SSRI which also improved my perceived well-being after a transition. The coffee outing had lost its purpose, maybe even destructive to more important activities.
I didn't stop going to the coffee shops altogether, except for Starbucks, which got more expensive and, more importantly, withdrew my ability to choose my coffee additives myself. However, weekly planning shifted to Sunday mornings in My Space, followed by a treadmill session if scheduled that day. Periodically, would still feel a need to sit in a public space, even if tending to myself. Brew HaHa and Panera still enabled that. The time would be mid-morning. In retirement, it need not restrict to Sundays. Both places offered porcelain mugs, though I preferred Brew HaHa's service at a counter to Panera's self-serve kiosks. Brew HaHa had another advantage. Other people I knew also liked to go there. Every few visits I could update with an old friend, usually a person of mental substance.
The coffee prices inflated, more noticeably as my attendance at the coffee shops declined in frequency. I have enough money. And the purpose for going there was never the coffee, which I could make easily at home. That $3 or so served as temporary space rental, a place at a table for a half hour where I could type on my laptop or jot thoughts onto a paper pad. I almost never purchased anything to eat, or an overpriced beverage with foam additive. I rented space for about $3.
Might coffee be price elastic? Despite my ample funds, might there be a threshold that negates my demand for either the coffee or a seat at the table? Maybe. Starbucks got the heave-ho at $3.25, part price, part forcing me to use a disposable cup, partly taking my freedom to customize away. If it were $2.75 would I tolerate the irritations? Probably not. I go there for the experience or for quiet time to type away on my laptop. I can still write, but with a lesser experience.
Panera kept the price more stable but also changed the experience. I don't mind the kiosk. The edibles remain very tempting but those clearly are price elastic. As much as I like quiche or coffee rolls, the price rises eliminated them from what I order. Brew HaHa remained the wild card. For purchase of coffee, maybe at the upper edge, for purchase of an experience still acceptable. For good reason, when I go there they seem to have more customers than the other places. Yet each time I walk through their doors, maybe every couple of months, that coffee price rises another 10 cents. I do not even consider the pastries.
I did my Sunday planning at home. Walked on the treadmill with slightly increased intensity and duration. A reward seemed appropriate. I drove to Brew HaHa, taking a writing pad with me. A short line. While waiting my turn, I looked at their beverage menu. My size coffee $3.35. It was $3.10 at my last stop there not very long ago. I had more than enough cash, but not sufficient need for the experience of customizing my coffee and jotting my thoughts onto the yellow pad I brought with me as I savored a special dark roast that I do not recall having previously. I guess the coffee and the experience are price elastic.
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