LOVE IN A COFFEE SHOP
I went and sat down in a Starbucks last Thursday. It was once my usual spot, but I hadn't been there in almost a month. I ordered my egg nog latte and took a seat near the window. I hate sitting at home during the weekday. It's too quiet and isolated, which breeds distractions. The thought of the coffee shop feels good. It makes me smile. I go in and see people of different shapes, different colors, and different walks of life all come in.
We're all there for the same thing, no matter what our background is. No matter what religion. No matter what's in our bank accounts.
You're tall, and round, and african american and you're here for a coffee? Me too! (the African American and coffee part;)
You're an only child of a family from Alaska that believes all holidays are stupid non-sense, and you're here for a coffee? Me too! (Again, the coffee part)
You work for one of the biggest companies in Michigan and every shoe in your closet adds up to more money than I've made in the last year, and you're here for a coffee? Me too!
And I think it's all beautiful. Every time I go somewhere that people are gathering out of sheer passion for books, movie, beliefs, musical, etc., I'm looking around and appreciating the fact that we are different, yet, not so different.
It's a nice feeling to have, especially with all of the division going on in the world.
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