You see, my little rant yesterday about the cafe Tillie's in my new Brooklyn 'hood was truly written with sadness and not venom. And just now I discovered why I really need a place like Tillie's. You see, there's this Starbucks I found in Manhattan, and, as I've alluded to, I come here regularly because unlike most Starbucks where you have to pay for a WiFi connection through T-Mobile Hotspot, this one must be near some kindly young or old soul with an open Airport connection. But aside from Starbucks being expensive and crowded and ... well ... Starbucks (even though this one has a warmer and more comfortable feel than most), I've always wanted to have my own little independent neighborhoody hangout that I liked and where the people knew me.
Yesterday I worked at this Starbucks for about four hours. The day before, for about five. Today, I got here around 3:15, just before they started having some free "party" giving away little cookies and bags of their ground Christmas blend. One of the women who work here came over to see if I wanted a taste of the coffee. I said, "Sure." She said, "I'll give you some cookies too. You work too hard. How long have you been here today? Four, four-and-a-half hours?" (Let's skip over the fact that I'm here "working" on things because I'm unemployed and getting paid nada for all the things I'm "working" on, most of which involve trying to get a job!) "Uhm, no, I just got here. But I was here for a while yesterday."
And that was it. I've been here so much over the past three days that the employees already know me, and joking about Starbucks being my "office" is no longer a joke. It's just sad.
Oh Tillie's. (sigh)