The Day My Tea Went Wrong

Something happened this morning that has me all out of sorts. I dropped Kirby off at preschool and headed with my 45-pound backpack full of books and a laptop, to my favorite study spot to spend a few hours in peace, studying and drinking tea. As soon as I entered the coffee shop, I could tell something was different, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. There was a very subtle, high-pitched "buzz"; a white-noise kind of sound. It wasn't until I was mid-order that I looked up to find a TV in the back corner. WHAT? How could they do this? This is my quiet spot, my little piece of serenity. I can't tell you how this breaks my heart. As I sit here typing, the TV is broadcasting commercials for the olympics. It just doesn't feel right. It's not right.

I should say here that I've long had an affinity for coffee houses. I found my first one at age 15, in Lincoln, NE while attending fine arts camp. The moment I had my first italian soda and slithered into the beat-up wooden chairs I felt like I was home. When I was attending college in Laramie, WY, the town's first "real" coffee house opened up during my freshman year. Coal Creek Coffee Co. became my home away from dorm, the place I would continually seek out over the subsequent four and a half years to get away from problems, hear good music, have first dates, meet up with old friends and professors, and eventually, bring my family back to. Here is the inside of Coal Creek:
Here is what the inside of my current coffee house feels like:

CAN YOU SEE THE DIFFERENCE?

Now, I take my tea very seriously. So much so, that just last night, as I was enjoying a cup of Tension Tamer(c) I thought "I should write about how wonderful tea makes me feel". But that's a different post for a different time. The point is - don't mess with my tea, or the place where I drink it! I value peace and quiet even more than I value my tea. Look, I can't fault the owners of the place I've been studying all year. It's in the 'burbs, in a little boxy piece of commercial real estate that looks strikingly like a strip mall without the other stores. I guess it's just par for the course. I just don't understand though...am I the only person stuck out here in suburbia who just craves a little bit of serenity within the confines of exposed brick walls and hardwood floors, with people from all different walks of life sitting at the tables, and some good world-beat music on in the background? (I can see my mother-in-law cringing right now...aren't you, Jane?) Just give me a little flavor. Give me a little authenticity. Give me a break! A TV?????