I had some time to kill.
I had checked out of my hotel room. But my flight home wouldn’t leave the gate for another eight hours or so.
Sure, I could drive around in my rental car, or do some sightseeing.
But this was Florida in June. And between the swampy air and the constant thunderstorms, that didn’t seem like a great idea.
So, I did what many Americans do when killing time. I headed to the nearest Starbucks.
Moments later, I was sitting in an armchair with an iced coffee in hand. I pulled out some reading I’d brought with me, but I didn’t get far.
The scene around me was too interesting.
There was the group of young women looking for a caffeine boost. They were still wearing the commemorative t-shirts from the concert they’d gone to the night before.
There were the couples in line. Some seemed confident. Others seemed tentative.
There were some people speaking Spanish, some speaking English, and some mixing the two.
These snippets of everyday life weren’t playing out on the streets of a bustling city. They were taking place at a coffee shop in a suburban shopping center.
It seemed so normal. And yet, it blew my mind.
If I had hopped in a time machine and left the palm lined boulevards of modern-day Florida, I could probably find a similar scene to what I witness in that Starbucks.
For cafes and tea parlors have existed in parts of the world for centuries.
At first these establishments existed for functional reasons. Years ago, it was no small feat to make an espresso or an exotic tea at home. So many people would venture out to whet their appetites.
But all this has changed in recent decades. The advent of coffee makers and refrigerators make it far easier to enjoy any type of drink without leaving our front doors.
And yet, cafes have remained popular.
This is not because of the beverages these venues offer, or even the service they provide.
It’s because of the connections they help forge.
Drinking is a social activity. As humans, we like to share the experience with others. To take our time enjoying the concoctions in our mugs. And to soak up the ambiance.
Legislators failed to account for this when they enacted Prohibition in 1919. The act was meant to ban alcohol in the United States. But a vibrant Speakeasy culture popped up in its stead.
Speakesies didn’t take off because of the bootleg liquor inside. Sure, the opportunity to drink illicit alcohol was intriguing, but it wasn’t the main attraction.
No, the Speakeasies became legendary thanks to the scene they provided. Like moths on a sultry evening, people would flock to the flame of social connection that flickered at these secretive locations.
The United States government had tried to put out this flame. To defang the source of so many gatherings. To form a quiet, reclusive society.
But those efforts proved fruitless. Social connection persevered.
Decades later, Howard Schultz made sure not to repeat the U.S. government’s mistake. Noting the street café scene of Italy, Schultz reimagined the company he helmed. He rebranded it as a third place — a location where people were encouraged to linger and connect.
The company he redefined? Starbucks.
And now, on a steamy morning in Florida, it was all coming full circle. I was seeing Schultz’s vision unfold.
You can observe a lot by watching.
This Yogi Berra quote is whimsical, to the point of sounding ridiculous.
But there is a great deal of truth to it.
We live in a world that’s full of action. We inhabit a society where we’re encouraged to keep moving and keep creating.
But we cannot innovate if we don’t first imitate.
We grow by watching others and emulating their actions. We start by learning from our parents, but we soon evolve to learn from our peers.
The Internet has turbocharged this process, giving us a one-stop shop for everything from cooking tips to home improvement tutorials. But there are some things just can’t be shared through a laptop or a smartphone screen.
Some things can only be learned in person. In places like coffee shops, where people linger and connect. Places where so many corners of culture converge.
This spirit is what I was tapping into on this spontaneous trip to Starbucks. By simply sitting and enjoying a cup of coffee, I was immersing myself in the culture of this particular part of Florida. The nuances, the wrinkles — all of it was becoming more familiar to me.
The sights and sounds of coffee shops are far different these days.
With a global pandemic raging, many cafes have closed their doors. Others have pivoted to takeout service only.
Starbucks itself has largely moved in this direction. It’s a startling turnabout for a company that once refused to build drive thru lanes at its locations.
Not many coffee or tea drinkers have complained about this. For they can still get their espressos, lattes and Matchas ready to order from the counter or the drive thru window. And they don’t have to risk their health if they enjoy the beverages from the comfort of their vehicle or their home.
I understand this inclination as much as anyone. Yet, I still fear something is being lost.
The subtle din of the coffee shop, it’s not just fodder for writers like me. It’s a familiar soundtrack to so many of us.
It’s where the inquisitive can engage their curiosity. It’s where the cultural explorers can jet set, without boarding a plane.
It’s where friends can connect, romances can spark and business connections can be forged.
Yes, some of this can be supplanted in the virtual world. But it can’t truly be replaced.
We still need to tap into that rhythm of connection.
Maybe not at the moment I’m writing this, when gatherings are banned and interpersonal trust is fleeting. But someday, when this extraordinary moment passes, we will need the sights and the sounds of in-person interaction. We will need them more than ever.
I eagerly await that day, that eventuality. But until then, I hope the memories of that morning at a coffee shop in Florida will suffice.