At one time, though a number of years ago, at least one coffee outing a week took place on schedule. Every Sunday morning I would slip my black nylon pouch which contained my weekly planning supplies and head out for coffee. One place dominated, a local shop that offered a choice of three blends and a table to customize with sweeteners, lighteners, and spice shakers. Then I would spread paper, pen, and markers across a table. By the time the last drop got sipped, I returned to my car with two completed lists, one enumerating projects for the week, the other with initiatives for that Sunday, all coded by color. Sometimes I'd order a pastry, mostly not. I changed the destination occasionally, preferring Einstein's across the street when I had a Bagel and Schmear coupon, or the Starbucks around the corner. My local shop had the advantage of offering the coffee in a porcelain mug.
I don't remember how long ago I last did that. Now My Space serves the Sunday mornings. Coffee brews over a k-cup. Colored pens sit in empty spice jars in my line of sight, colored markers in a frosted plastic box from a back-to-school sale on my left. Very little need to visit a coffee shop.
When Starbucks became a ubiquitous international destination, its founders modeled its locations on a European coffee bistro, a meeting place dating perhaps to the 18th century. Coffee could not be obtained as easily in that era. Now with mass marketing of coffee, or beer for that matter, we still have a social need for a coffee house or pub experience. Coffee houses became places to exchange ideas, pubs to connect with a community. In America, pre-Starbucks, perhaps the local diner or taverns close to big factories served that gathering function. Each had an element of convenience, but Starbucks strove to create an experience.
And for a while I could go to the local places that offer specialty coffee, run into somebody I know with predictable frequency, and complete some work that I brought with me.
I rarely seek these places out in recent years. When traveling, coffee from WaWa fits in the cup holder as I drive. Overpriced coffee from an airport kiosk replaces what I would have made at home were I not pressed by schedule. I purchase a beverage at those places, not an experience. Every few months, though, I want a break from my house. For $3.50 or so, I can rent a table which allows me to type on my laptop or outline ideas on a writing pad. The coffee, flavored as I like it, gets sipped. It does not serve a social purpose but a carved out half-hour to sit alone with my mind in creative mode, free of the distractions of My Space.
I still buy experience, but a different one than outlining my week on a Sunday morning. My local options have not changed. Large franchises: Starbucks, Einstein's, Panera, Dunkin, and the small regional chain. Some give you a disposable cup to fill, much as WaWa would. Others have an attendant taking customer orders. Things to eat while sipping the hot coffee have accelerated in price, with only a Dunkin Donut remaining close to my price point. Starbucks and Dunkin now sell coffee more than experience. Attendants at Starbucks have lines of cars awaiting their turn at the drive-in windows. People inside, at least at suburban locations, have become the exception. They removed the cream thermoses and spice shakers during the pandemic, never replacing them. Dunkin just pours hot liquid splashed with something white. Tables have an IKEA look, chairs of plastic. Not a place to do best thinking.
Where to go? The biweekly cleaners had come. I could close the door to My Space, but I found the bustle a distraction. After they finished vacuuming the upper landing, I headed downstairs with my cross chest travel pack for a morning of coffee. Front door obstructed. I left by the back door. Panera maybe. They have porcelain cups, adequate seating, quiet nooks. I drove past their strip mall. Einstein and Starbucks not the respite I sought. Local shop, perhaps. Finally, after driving in a loop, I returned home to find the cleaner's van still in front of my house. And I wanted to do some mental activity. Nearest option, Dunkin.
As a company, there are a lot of them nearby. While they once had Fred the Baker getting up at 3AM to create luscious donuts for the morning rush, the CEO retired him. Making and selling coffee is much less labor intensive. Coupons for coffee and donut discounts used to arrive in the mail or as a newpaper supplement frequently. These have faded into consumer history. I drove to a strip mall, squeezed my Toyota into one of the few remaining spaces, and headed inside at mid-morning. Menu on a flat screen, donuts in a case, store promotions more for cold drinks than coffee. I picked a French cruller, standard coffee, handing the counter lady a $20 bill. I kept $15 in change, leaving the unspent 50 cents in the tip jar. They had processed me through efficiently.
I placed the cardboard container on the flimsy table, pulled the tiny white plastic tab back and took a sip. A paper bag, recyclable if not soiled by residual donut fying oil, held the cruller. I took that out and ate the first bite. Then another sip. From my travel pouch, I removed a pocket notebook and pen. Bite of donut, sip of coffee, two ideas entered into notebook. Repeat until donut fully consumed and page of notebook filled to capacity. Majority of very mediocre coffee remained, its white plastic travel top still on, and kept reasonably hot by the engineers who designed the cardboard coffee mugs. Accomplished my purpose, which was writing in the notebook. Got a pretty good donut as a bonus. Coffee, the excuse for making the side trip, mostly an afterthought.
Gathering spots, which Starbucks envisioned, have fallen from grace. Britain still has pubs. Maybe major cities, European and American, have espresso bars. The few times I treat myself to a happy hour beer, it never looks like Cheers. No people interacting with anyone else other than the person who accompanied them. I go to parks frequently, invariably the oldest person there. Kids play on swings and slides, parents keep them safe. People who walk their dogs sometimes let their pet interact with other visitors, never interact themselves. My favorite diner closed, but at its peak, the people at the counter seemed recognizable every week, a mini-community of each other plus the waitress, if not including me in the chatter. Since the pandemic, OLLI no longer has people sitting in chairs or at tables talking to each other during the half hour that separates class sessions. People seem mostly content with their screens, small for phone and laptop, giant for TV streaming.
There are still some events that attract throngs. Sports stadiums, political rallies, Yom Kippur, Pride Parades. People come in part to enjoy the event, mostly as witness unless a direct participant. Meeting random people rarely makes the agenda. Even the candidates who work the crowds, grabbing as many hands as their reach allows, want those present to meet them, not a desiring public servant seeking to acquaint with the people.
So my coffee excursion did not fulfill Starbuck's vision as a gathering place. I had a task. whether weekly planning on Sunday mornings gone by or introducing myself to my new pocket notebook just delivered by Amazon. The cruller made writing in the notebook more pleasant, the Dunkin coffee and the plastic chairs contributed little.
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