Peanuts In My Pocket

I retired two years ago, and for the most part, the adjustment has been easy. I keep myself busy, work around a few health issues, and generally enjoy life. There are things I miss, though, and a few unexpected changes I’ve come to appreciate. One thing I miss is my old Starbucks. I used to escape the pressure of my job by taking long breaks on the patio or inside the lounge of a shop in Carson. I enjoyed the silence and the solitude, or, when I felt social, the quiet interactions with other patrons.

When I think about it, that feeling was already fading before the pandemic. Something shifted at Starbucks. Instead of feeling like a welcome guest, I slowly became an afterthought, just another customer with a fistful of dollars. I might as well have been shopping at Walmart. I didn’t notice how the experience degraded over time. I was the proverbial frog slowly boiling in a pot of coffee.

After the pandemic, I stopped visiting my favorite shop altogether. I moved to the drive-through because it was faster than going inside. Inside visits turned into long waits to order, followed by even longer waits for the drink. The lounge, once a place to relax and reset, had become a waiting room for a virtual queue of online orders. After a few twenty-minute ordeals, I became a convenience customer, grabbing a cup through the window and drinking it on the go. I lost my connection to something I loved and needed, and I didn’t even notice.

Meanwhile, my wife became a skilled barista at home. Our home-brewed coffee outshined the bitter truth about Starbucks: the coffee tastes burnt by comparison. I’m a simple coffee drinker. Black or with cream, nothing fancy. Suddenly the entire Starbucks experience felt stale and unnecessary. Still, I missed the quiet moments. I missed my third place. I wanted it back.

An unexpected opportunity came along. I could meet my son for coffee. He has free time each week, and I have nothing but time, so we started visiting local coffee shops in search of a good cup and a comfortable place to sit and talk. We’ve tried three so far, and the results are encouraging. The last shop didn’t serve drip coffee because their customers preferred more elaborate drinks, so I ordered a latte. No thanks.

What I’ve noticed at each independent shop is that the baristas care. They listen to my order, make the drink quickly, and if there’s going to be a wait, they tell me why. So far, the longest wait has been three minutes. I’ve sat in each place for over an hour, talking with my son and enjoying the atmosphere. They all had the third-place vibe I’ve been missing. Sure, each one had its share of digital warriors glued to laptops, but plenty of others were simply relaxing and enjoying life.

Places we’ve visited so far:

• Solid Coffee Roasters in Artesia
  Great coffee and a warm, friendly atmosphere. I enjoyed both the experience and the cup.
• Homeboy Coffee in Artesia
  My favorite so far. Judging by the crowd, it’s popular. The coffee is excellent. I’ll go back, even if the average customer is thirty years younger than me.
• Mono Coffee in Lakewood
  A charming little shop. The baristas were friendly and helpful, but they had to explain that they don’t serve drip coffee. I’m not sure I’ll return, but I’m glad I tried it.

I still prefer a quiet cup at home with my wife, but she’s working and often busy with meetings, so I expect I’ll start exploring more shops on my own. Maybe I’ll bring a good book. I always carry a camera, but coffee‐shop vibe shots aren’t really my thing. Maybe that’s something I can work on.