cappuccino...perfetto.The coffee shop is a unique place. All walks of life come together here, I notice. The studious college student, poring over Greek philosophy, the young businessman, with a cell phone AND a blackberry, a yellow legal pad, another important-looking book, and two cups of coffee - I initially thought he was here with someone, until he started jabbering away on his phone while scrolling through his e-mail on his blackberry. On my far right, a rugged, middle-aged man reads a large, hardcover coffee table book. Perhaps he’s a father who still goes running and hiking. To his right, a tall, thin, blandly dressed woman reads the New York Times; her hair is pulled back into a neat ponytail, with reading glasses perched perfectly on her tiny nose. As I crack my back in my seat (a nervous habit of mine, but is also useful for stealing glances), I try to see if she's got a ring on her left ring finger – I can't tell. One of the Lookout Joe workers, a girl in her 20s with long, strawberry blonde hair, comes over to sit with a man -- most likely a regular. They read the Cincinnati enquirer and discuss something I can't hear. Ah, the young business professional is gone. The middle-aged woman is not wearing a ring. Curious. The iPhone-holding, outdoorsy father in the corner gives me a smile as he resumes his position on the overstuffed couch. I glance out the window and watch the traffic, both pedestrian and automotive, rush by Mt. Lookout Square. I wonder if I could live here.
I suppose you could say I'm doing a trial run of just that - staying with Kyle and his roommate for 10 days or so in an apartment not far from this little cafe where I've set up camp should give me an idea. Especially since work doesn't start for another week, I'll have plenty of time to explore while Kyle is at the Cincinnati EPA office.
Oh! How unobservant I have been while losing myself in my thoughts! I have completely missed a new wave of customers; along with the fact that the smiling, outdoorsy father has extremely toned calves, wears the same Keen sandals my own father back in New York wears, and is sporting a black "Outdoor World" t-shirt. Oh, and it's raining outside.
I mindlessly flip through my new "Everything About Learning Portuguese" book, and watch a mom come in with her daughter and son, looking like they just came from soccer practice. They seem happy together; the daughter and son do not quarrel, do not talk back to their mother who has so generously bought them blended coffee beverages and bagels. Ah, my mysterious un-ringed middle aged woman moves to a table outside - I can't blame her, it is a bit crowded in here now.
