I don’t usually write in Starbucks.

Starbucks

But when I do, I actually get shit done. Most paper-writing nights are spent at home in the wee hours while streaming coffee shop sounds on my laptop but desperate times call for desperate measures. At 9:45 in the morning, I was in Starbucks. I decided to chronicle my thoughts.

  • I hope nobody talks to me. Aaaaaaaand, I know someone. But he’s cool. I’ll just pretend that I didn’t see him. (If you get to read this and know it’s you, hi! We did greet each other at Starbucks but it took like 30 awkward minutes.)
  • A guy went in, looked at me, and said hi. He thought I was his friend. He turned around, searched for his friend some more, and found her. I look nothing like his friend.
  • Starbucks got a little too crowded after 10:00 am.
  • Everyone’s sitting with friends or working with group mates, and I’m here sitting at the corner alone, trying to find the meaning of life.
  • My attention span is terrible right now.
  • There’s a Korean lady in the middle of the room speaking loudly. It’s a good thing I can’t understand what she says.
  • How can baristas be so chipper and perky in the morning? All I can offer them back is a sheepish smile and a look that says, “I just want my damn tea and bread.”
  • A girl and her friend are sitting a little too close to me. I feel weird. She just spun my table around while trying to squeeze into the small space between their table and mine. I really think they’re a little too close. If she ever sees what I’m typing then I’m really sure that they’re too close.
  • This place sounds like Coffitivity.

After two hours, I left with a more organized paper and a half-empty wallet. Thanks, Starbucks!

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