When my fridge broke and I had to wait several days for the repair guy to come by, I spent even more times in cafés. One morning, I tried out a new place for breakfast. Even before 8am, all of the very few tables were occupied by people sitting alone in front of their laptops, typing while sipping their coffees. Or sipping their coffees while typing. Each of them quietly taking up space in their own world. All I could find were two uncomfortable high chairs at a high counter along the window. My breakfast partner took the seat next to me, and we talked to each other while looking outside at mostly empty tables on the patio. The morning was chilly, my hair was still wet from the shower, and sitting outside wasn’t an option for me. And clearly for none of the laptop customers either. They probably worried about the sun interfering with the view of their screens later that day. When you work remotely, you don’t just stop at a café for breakfast but you go there to stay for hours. The only official co-working space downtown had closed its doors very unexpectedly a few months ago, and now all these remote workers had nowhere to go outside their own home.
On another day, I had lunch a place where people actually talked to each other. Almost nobody was on their own, most of them sat in groups around their table. I started listening to the cacophony of voices whirring by my ears. More than one language was spoken, languages I couldn’t even recognize, and some voices were too far away for me to hear them well enough. After a while I noticed that more than my ears, it were my eyes following their conversations. People looked intently at each other to read facial expressions and gestures. This big, said one man with his hand. You could look at it this way or that way, said a woman with both of her hands. Can you believe it, said the face of the other person at the table. Somebody at some table was listing all options with the fingers of this hands. There is nothing you can do about it, commented another guest’s hands. The people at this café all talked to somebody about something, and their body language added quite a dramatic twist to each and every conversation. These people exchanged more than just words or facts. A smile, a laugh, a leaning forward or backward, a shoulder shrug, a touching of the other’s arm with a hand. There was so much going on, so many channels sending simultaneously and receiving all signals from wherever they came. Each conversation had a literal depth to them, involving many body parts and taking up space around the table.
The difference between the subdued breakfast café and this lively lunch place was striking. How was that possible?! My table had a little metal sign that said: Computer-free table. Does this little sign keep the remote workers and their laptops away? Or does this café just attract a different type of customer, the one that can meet with people in real life, the one that comes for a coffee and a conversation?
California Journal 