Priced Beyond Good Will

 

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.

Go Get Coffee

My day and my week get outlined first thing Sunday morning.  Prior to retiring, that brought a very peaceful start to my week as I packed my black nylon zippered pouch and tablet onto the front seat and headed off to the nearest Brew HaHa.  At a price acceptable to me, really more for renting space at one of their tables for 45 minutes than for the coffee, I would get mostly a porcelain mug of dark roast, on occasion Huckleberry Creme instead, remove my pens, markers and pad, using the quiet time to collect my thoughts or follow my semi-annual outline to what might constitute a gratifying week and a productive Sunday off from work.

Retirement brought a commitment to creating My Space at home.  Mission accomplished after a few months.  Ever since, my first destination after tooth brushing has been my desk, with its customized lights and more writing implements than I can possibly use.  My zippered pouch sits at eye level to my left and gets used on most days, though I keep a set of colored pens, markers and pads to my right as well.  Transitioning away from the Brew HaHa on Sunday morning was not abrupt, but by the time Covid-19 suspended their operations, I had pretty much made my Keurig K-cup machine the source of daily coffee, including Sundays.   I've not been to a coffee shop at all since the pandemic, don't really miss what I did there though a late weekday morning at Starbucks became an escape to tote my laptop and write an article or blog entry away from the distractions of home.  Planning gets done at my desk in My Space.

As serious infection risk has eased, the shops are again opening.  Earlier this week, late morning, I decided to visit one for the first time since the pandemic.  Brew HaHa, Starbucks, Einsteins all straddle the same corner, as does Dunkin Donuts which gives a less Bohemian opportunity.  I drove around, ready to stop, then as I was driving, I thought of something I wanted to do instead and drove back home.  Saved about $2.50.

If I really wanted to resume the quiet of a usually paper cup of coffee made by the pros I could, but as my aborted quest indicated, what I could do at home has greater allure than what I can do at one of their tables.  I have distractions at home, but have gotten into routines of when to drink coffee, what kind, and what to do while I am drinking it.  Eventually I will resume Covid-19 restricted day or overnight trips and that morning of quiet coffee with my pad and multicolored pens will return, though very temporarily.  My current practice of me time with my planning tools and a porcelain mug of k-cup coffee seems the preferable option to those 45 weekly minutes at the Brew HaHa.

Out for Coffee

Coffee and me go back to college.  The school cafeteria offered breakfast coffee for 10 cents with unlimited refills.  Most mornings I would get a bow tie pastry with it, streusel + confectioners sugar coated for 25 cents, leaving me with energy for AM classes.  Within a year, I found an orange percolator that served me well studying for exams at night through medical school.  Can't remember where I lost it.  My father drank instant.  Phooey.

Living in Harvard housing, the Square had a shop called Coffee Connection, introduced to me by my wife.  They may have been the precursor to Starbucks, which eventually absorbed them.  Early on a weekend morning I could head over there and purchase a brew in an individual French press.  They had multiple types and you could buy beans, thus my first home coffee grinder, a blade type.  As I ventured to Fanueil Hall Marketplace, there were other places to sample different coffees,  12 oz for about 75 cents.  My home still had canned coffee, whatever was discounted at the supermarket, though by then I had developed a preference for Folgers over the other large commercial brands.  Only one blend per manufacturer at the time.

Fondness for coffee has continued to this day.  I have a bunch of French Presses, a keurig maker, three coffee cones, two drip machines, a stovetop percolator and and electric percolator, not to mention a party sized urn that rarely gets used and both manual and electric espresso makers.  My staple, though has been the keurig cups, enabling variety and ease of use with small sacrifice to taste.  Why ever go out?

Despite my gadgetry, I cannot duplicate what Starbucks and the like do.  WaWa has some varieties of good consistency at a lower price which I get when I am in transit.  When coffee houses were a novelty to me, the coffee in its variety, made with expertise, was my destination.  More recently, though, the destination has been less beverage and more transient space rental while I plan my week on Sunday mornings at the Brew HaHa or take my laptop to Starbucks to rent space at their counter while I type an essay.  Artists and Bohemians have been meeting at European coffee houses for centuries, less to drink coffee and more to expand their minds with each other.  I do it alone, but same basic principle.  Since the purpose is to minimize distraction and promote focus, I stopped going to the nearest Starbucks with loud music and traffic in favor of a newer one, more thoughtfully laid out to enable productive efforts.  The Brew HaHa is also quiet with the tables placed away from customer traffic.  And my car, with it's paper 20 oz cup of Ethiopian or Peruvian special, affords me the ultimate in solitude as I pay attention to the road.  Usually I have a destination, sometimes important, sometimes not.  So while coffee has remained a cheap hobby for me from my earliest adult years, sometimes the taste is supportive of something else that often has greater importance.  But we don't engage in great thought sipping Maxwell House.