Too Cool for School

I am in a coffee shop that is playing strictly oldies- mostly Motown, some classic rock.
And I am loving every minute of it.

A few favorites so far include “Signed, Sealed, Delivered”, “My Girl”, and “Heard it Through the Grapevine”.

Blame it on the coffee but my left foot simply will not stop stomping to the beat and my mouth refuses to stay closed. I must sing and dance to this music. To do anything else would be inhumane and just plain silly.

Currently hidden away in a tight corner near the front door sets me in a position to see the entire room as I peer up from my laptop like a groundhog announcing its innocence and optimism inviting a new season to the earth.

One by one, people shuffle in from the cold winds and grey sky wearing long and sophisticated-looking jackets. They all seem to retrieve their wallets from their right pocket with the same swift hand gesture as smooth as whipped cream on pecan pie.

There is something about shared space with strangers that is beyond beautiful to me. We all share the same air, the same need (warm drink, food), and we all try to act like we are the only one in the room. We check our phones, we keep our eyes down robotically as the guy behind the counter announces “Americana on the bar” or “Large Latte up”.

And yet the music unites our breath and movement.

Or at least mine.