Urban Starbucks are pretty much an ecosystem unto themselves, what with the hipsters, homeless people and high-powered caffeine addicts jostling for a spot in front of the register. Elbows are thrown. Laptops are stolen. Comfy chairs are fought and won a thousand times in the space of a single day - the lobby being carved up like a partitioned Poland falling under the knives of Eastern Europe.
Anywho.
Urban Starbucks are always good for some sights - like the tattooed hipsters updating their Facebook pages, the random drug addicts staggering around in too-little clothes and ragged hems and the occasional crazy-person-that-turns-out-to-be-a-Bluetooth-freak jabbering into the air. I hate those - BECAUSE YOU CAN NEVER TELL ANYMORE. Especially with this whole "boho chic" thing that's going on in fashion. I like my homeless people dirty and smelly and talking to themselves. When the people who can afford cell phones start doing that too, we need to talk.
The intersection of tattooed hipster and slightly deviant behavior is always fun. I witnessed this up close over the weekend.
I was in what's got to pass for an "urban" Starbucks around here - the only one in what could conceivably be called a "downtown" that isn't a tack-o-rama tourist trap district. There's a bit of everything - including some dude who likes to stand in the middle of the street. I hate to tell him, but he's about 120 pounds, soaking wet. He wouldn't win in a fight with a Tata Nano, probably not even a Radio Flyer.
It is the tattooed hipster that has my attention. He's sitting at a table outside and has the laptop out - and on Facebook - of course. Only, he keeps leaving the table to walk around the corner. I can't quite see what's going on - but dude - seriously? It might not be anything but a banged-up old Dell, but someone could still pawn that puppy for a fix.
And we're not talking "run to the condiment bar for a napkin" - we're talking five, ten minutes at a crack. Something is up. I've got time. I'm going to wait him out. Especially because he keeps giving me *looks.* Um. OK. You're cute but the receding hairline is definitely a mark against you. The PC is another. The stupidity is strike three - you're out.
Finally, he must have decided that I was either OK or else not a Narc, because he came inside and began his project, which was obviously the subject of all the hard work earlier - the one which involved all the running around on the corner.
He's rolling something. Now, I really, really want to believe that it was tobacco. He finishes quickly, furtively, and *looks* at me. I *look* at him and he *looks* around the corner of the shop for the barista. He wipes a few stray stems off the table and hops back outside.
Where his computer has been sitting this whole time. *sigh*
Omar from "The Wire" would have eaten this child for lunch. With a side of shotgun shells and Honey Nut Cheerios.
1 comments:
There is nothing, I repeat nothing, to compare to an urban Starbucks that has been taken over during the Annual Conference of the American Political Science Association, APSA. APSA equals 12,000 political scientists in dark blue suits just desperate for caffeine. The egos are killer and the mismatched clothing is godforsaken. When next I go, I'll tell you about it. Last time the bald skinny guy in a pinstripe suit ordered 4 shots of expresso. That was all. Four shots.
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