AMONGST OTHERS
‘It’s kinda like Friends’, I heard my son say as we sat on the sofa at Starbucks waiting for our coffees. As I stepped away to take a photo, I had to admit that it kind of was. But only ever so slightly.
‘I remember when Starbucks had plates’, I told my son and reminded him of how we all used to go and would sit in booths or comfier chairs. We would then eat our pastries on actual plates and drink coffee and hot chocolate out of actual mugs.
‘I can’t imagine Starbucks having plates’, he replied and commented on how plain the place was with only the chairs and tables. I agreed and noticed how cold and uninviting it felt. It’s sad that it has become all too commercial. Nothing like the coffee shop experiences of Europe.
‘How many more stores are we going to’, I heard my son ask as we started driving away from Starbucks.
It was only our second stop, after the Turkish shop where we did not find the Franck Jubilarna coffee that we usually get but did get the espresso grind – the green package. The older guy, who had been there ever since I started shopping there almost 18 years ago, was training a younger guy. I wondered if the older guy was getting ready to retire.
‘We’re going to Williams Sonoma next, then Central Market and whatever else is in the area’, I replied. He clearly wasn’t pleased with my answer.
‘I don’t like being out’, he replied with a sigh. I reminded him that he had a vacation this summer and had spent the first three weeks at his father’s place, so I had barely seen him all summer. Weekends are basically the only time I get to go out and I wanted to spend time with him. Granted, shopping is not either of our preferences for quality time, but it needed to be done.
‘I also don’t like having to go buy things on my day off, but sometimes we have to’, I retorted.
As we walked into Williams Sonoma, we first stopped by the espresso machine section at the front of the store. It’s been something I’ve dreamt of having for decades, but never got around to actually buying. Yet.
An older gentleman walked over to us when I asked him about the smaller model of the Breville machines and if it was better to get one without the burr grinder attached. He explained that buying the burr grinders separately would be around $200 and I had to admit that I would prefer the convenience of having it attached to the machine instead of having two appliances on my already too small kitchen counter.
As I walked over to the machine I’ve been eyeing for years, he explained that it was the only one that has not had something changed to the inner workings. He shared how he had started working for Williams Sonoma 17 years ago on a part-time basis after having retired in the late 90s, and how they now won’t let him go. He seemed to like the interaction with people and I enjoyed the brief exchange of words.
In the meantime, I saw my son taking apart the cleaning tray of another machine, explaining how that was the one his father has. I told him I preferred the one that had more dials and buttons.
‘How old is he?’, asked the older gentleman.
‘He’s 15’, I replied.
‘Oh, it gets better’, he stated.
‘Does it really? Or are you just saying that?’, I wanted to know.
‘It does’, he said.
We continued towards the back of the store where we looked at the fancy knives and various other items. Every time my son would pick up something that looked expensive, which seemed to be everything, I told him to put it down. I was afraid that he would drop something and we’d then have to pay for it.
Just as that thought crossed my mind, I saw a lady holding two white bowls not too far from us. As if in slow motion, one of the bowls fell out of her hands and dropped to the floor, shattering to pieces. I instantly wondered if she would have to pay for it and even heard the older gentleman say something to that effect to a colleague, but it did not appear to be the case. She seemed to have simply walked out of the store.
My son continued to pick up random breakables, with my following closely behind. We then continued to The Gap, a few doors down, but I quickly walked out when I noticed my son’s impatience at having to go to yet another store.
At Central Market, we picked up a few items and used the express checkout. I would have preferred to walk around some more seeing how this was one of the few times I left the house, but vowed to go another weekend. Alone. Early. Before my son awoke.
In the car, I told him we then wouldn’t go to Costco but home instead. He knew I wanted to buy the sparkling water that was on sale. It was something he wanted, so he said we could go. But going to Costco around noon on a Saturday is never a good idea. When I saw the checkout line snaking around the back of the store, I told him we were leaving. The wait was simply not worth the savings.
Once home, we both felt better. He retreated to his room to work on his Lego Technic car and I retreated to my study to knit my newest scarf. Not being able to take a vacation this year has taken its toll, but next summer, I need to go. In nature and amongst others.
