I Wouldn't Mind a Stain

A local coffee shop opened today. Roy's Station empowers the surrounding neighborhood by giving its people a place to "hang out." Other establishments in the immediate area are often too small, too busy, or too sticky to be considered a laid-back place to drop a few bucks and chat with friends.

I don't drink coffee. A CNN.com article told me to drink coffee quickly as slow sips re-coat one's teeth eventually leading to stains. That article has since turned me off from coffee. I need my white teeth. I'm not the most attractive gentleman at the table; I wouldn't consider myself the Fabio of my generation, and I need all the help I can get--white teeth included.

2 friends, 8 acquaintances, and I ventured into the bitter cold and sampled this new vendor. Attending Roy's grand opening today, I realized that I don't particularly like coffee, and I don't particularly like sitting with people I don't know very well. It's nothing personal; I swear!

I dislike the setting, not the people. These people are perfectly lovely people. These people are not social troglodytes; my acquaintances each have friends and significant others who, I'm sure, love them dearly, but as far as I am concerned, my solipsism does not afford me the luxury of actually enjoying the company of, what are essentially, 8 strangers.

Today, drinking coffee was not about hot water mixed with coffee grounds; it was about interacting socially.

I am friends, not mere acquaintances, with about 2 people of the 10 people in attendance. It's a stubborn positive feedback loop: I don't know the other 8 people that well, and, in turn, we sit far away from each other. Conversations with such large groups usually become divided based on simple proximity. I never meet the other 8 and they never meet me because we sit on opposite sides of the table. How pathetic is the Social Fabric! We might know names, but we don't know the darker sides our smiles. I stain my teeth for 2 friends and 8 strangers.

I don't actually know why I attended this evening. Maybe it was to support the neighborhood organization. Maybe I simply wanted a warm drink after a cold day. Or maybe I simply buckled under the social pressures to attend a function outside of my comfort zone. Whatever the reason, I find my cheeks sore from smiling and pretending to participate in conversations outside of my understanding. I nod politely all the while thinking of something to say to my friends that wouldn't interrupt the conversational flow of the other 8 people. I find myself jealous when my 2 friends laugh with the other 8 as if my friends are being unfaithful. I feel insecure when my friends enter another sphere and leave me behind. I nod politely, but I'm thinking of ways to bring my 2 friends back.

The joke is on me. My 2 friends have known the other 8 longer than they have known me. I am the rookie in the group. I'd rather horde my friends than share them. I'd rather live in a world where I can control current friends rather than make new ones. What a desperate and childish perspective! I often write of teenage angst as part of my past; I am a fraud. My angst is brooding; my angst is present. I may not scream my flawed emotions anymore, but I certainly nurture them.

Maybe I just need more practice being in social situations. Maybe my friends didn't pressure me into attending--maybe they are just throwing me a buoyant biscotti, so I won't drown in my antisocial coffee brewing in the corners of social mores.

My teeth are not white because of the CNN article; my teeth are white because I hate drinking coffee.

Roy's opened today. To all you 8: Keep inviting me for those $3 drinks. Maybe this is the just the coffee shop I need to stain my teeth.