Eerie Starbucks this morning. While I read Stephen King, a bunch of quiet homeless men are enjoying a Grande while taking turns to light up a smoke outside.
Meanwhile, an old man is trying to figure out how to connect his brand new iPhone 5s - box on the table - to his new laptop.
By the motions of his head it's clear that his attempts have been so far unsuccessful.
Next to me a young boy looking exactly like the vampire Spike from Buffy stares at the wall. I wonder if he has a Brit accent. At the table behind me a curious young guy ready to go to Church adjusts his tie while reading a seemingly interesting book on the Gracchi. An old lady, silvery hair, picks up stuff from the ground.
Oh Starbucks, the crossroads of life with a jazz soundtrack.