Caffeinated Sunday

I am very grateful for the coffee shop within walking distance from this home. But man, oh man, does it ever cater to a different clientele. In Seattle, the plethora of caffeinated watering holes are filled with young adults staring at laptops or iPads through their hipster specs. Here, the average age of the male coffee shop sipper is about 60 years old. Their hair is either grey or balding and the women are decidedly middle-aged and older. Now and then, a young couple will enter to sip a latte or two, but they are a rarity. I must admit that, by appearance, I seem to fit in. But I still feel like an outsider.

Could NOT believe the overheard conversations this morning. I was sitting next to a table of four people discussing the recent approval of the health care system, now commonly referred to as "Obamacare". The loudest among them said "So, are your churches upset about the Supreme Court's ruling? We believe that abortion is wrong. Birth control is wrong. By forcing us to all have coverage, we are taught that this health care plan will make us pay for things against our beliefs!!" The lady next to him said "How can we be REQUIRED to pay for this? Our liberties are being taken away!" I have learned to sit quietly as I listen to these opinions but I chuckled to myself under my breath. I desperately need health insurance, but have been unable to afford it now, for several years. I figure any change is good - plus, the law says that the cost will be 8% of a person's annual income. However, I am suspicious because the health insurance lobby must have had a big hand in writing the bill, as their clients stand to profit mightily.

Across the room, a big bald-headed guy was complaining about a neighbor who was a repeat offender and alternating between prison and drug rehab. He turned beat read as he groused about the man's inability to care for his own estranged family while buying  the choicest cuts of meat at the grocery store for himself. Bald man's voice continued to raise when he told his friends he loaned his leather jacket to this neighbor who didn't return it until he got back from his latest stint in rehab.. However, it had been damaged - slit diagonally up the back with a razor. He explained that "if the coat looked too good, it would have been stolen at rehab". This is a suburban coffee shop.  But, life can be tough among these rolling hills, butterfly bushes and split-level homes.

Sometimes, I really, really miss Seattle's inane conversations about tattoos bar bands and software apps.