I sit with my tea (okay, the coffee is a generalization), waiting for a friend who is stuck on a seemingly perpetually delayed weekend train. Having scoped out the prime "easy chairs in the corner" spot, I sip and watch as life goes on around me--families with small children, one parent up with a fussy one, the other parent trying to drink and talk and pay enough attention to the other child. Medical students with laptops and textbooks, taking notes as if their lives depended on it. Mothers reading the paper in peace. Singles relaxing after a run. Surrounding me is an odd microcosm of life, complete with coffee cups.
How often do we get to observe people whose lives are similar, yet so different, from ours? How rare is it that we stop and observe anything at all?
As my friend arrives, a survivor of the transportation madness that we
all share, I return to my own little part of the coffee shop world,
once again caught up in my own coffee, rather than other people's, once
again fairly oblivious to the lives spinning around me. Most of the
time, after all, our own lives are about all we can handle. Only once in
a while can we sit back and observe life. Life, that is, with a side of