To all the lonely Starbucks lovers
This week I am trying my hand at something a little different - some creative writing. Usually my blogs are focused on something personal or interesting to me but this week I am taking a creative writing prompt and running with it. So, the prompt is misheard song lyrics and of course the lyrics I think of immediately are from Taylor Swift’s Blank Space anthem. She says, “Got a long list of ex-lovers”, we hear “All the lonely Starbucks lovers.” Let’s begin.
The Beginning
Some people say they may be alone but they are never lonely. These people are the worst. They only say this to make it seem like their lives aren’t pitiful. I am currently sat alone in a coffee shop nursing a caramel latte that cost me £4.10. People talk about having expensive taste, the only taste I have is off burnt coffee and cheap surroundings. I sulk in the corner and watch everyday people from afar, I notice how each of them moves between the other, avoiding eye contact and pretending to be thinking of anything else other than their celebrity-led podcast that boasts crude jokes, self-deprecation and mass appeal.
The internet was meant to make us more connected than ever yet sitting here I can see first hand the reversal effect it has caused. I wonder as I sit here alone what everyone is thinking about or what those who sit as a group talk about. Politics, work, plans or other mundane niceties. So often I overhear conversations that mean very little to me, people talking about TikTok trends and social media news, these things are so alien to me. Social media has completely warped peoples’ perception on reality. They don’t understand how useless the talk of celebrity is, how fruitless thinking about memes are and how wasteful binge watching is. I admit to judging my generation because I do not understand them, their behaviour does not match mine and I have never found someone who acts like me.
The Middle
I’ve already spent over £4 on coffee today but I never got a pastry to go with it. I make the trip to the counter and order the type of cake mass produced and baked from frozen. It goes well with the burnt beans. I nestle down in my corner and scan the room of new customers. A boy has walked in, he looks directly at me and I am unnerved. I did notice how busy the café was but not that the only seat left was beside me. He approaches me and asks, “Do you mind if I sit here?”, I want to say yes with all my being but my mouth betrays me and mutters, “No, you can sit here.” I shift in my chair as he orders his coffee, crumbs from my frozen delight are sprinkled over the table. I try and brush them up with my hand before he comes back. I may be aloof but I am not messy.
He returns to the table and smiles awkwardly, after taking a sip he asks me if I’m watching anything good on Netflix and so it begins, small talk. I politely respond how I don’t often watch Netflix as I prefer being active in my spare time. I lie right to his face. Whilst I do recognise how wasteful streaming is on our time, it’s how I spend most of my weekends. I lie sprawled in front of my TV wondering what it would be like to have relationships like those on the screen. This person in front of me seemingly ignores my statement and continues to tell me he’s watching many series across all the platforms. Looks like someone isn’t getting a mortgage anytime soon.
The End
I can’t quite understand what is happening, I’ve sat in many coffee shops before with strangers beside me. They typically don’t converse, make eye contact or under any circumstance acknowledge I am beside them. This boy in front of me has not stopped talking since he sat down, I don’t even think I’ve replied to most of his questions yet he continues to speak at me as if engaged in conversation with a friend. I am confused by the interaction but yet it also makes me feel good. Good? A feeling I have not felt in some time, I feel connected.
So often I sit here and spew over my thoughts, I do not think others will understand me and I do not think they want to. But this boy has involved me in topics I know little about and I can’t help but feel intrigued by his thoughts. I enjoy our small talk for a while but I begin to feel exhausted and slightly nervous. Do I politely excuse myself from the table? It was my table in the first place, I say it’s late and time to go home. He cheerfully says good night and how nice it was talking to me. Nice, talking to me? I can’t believe it.
I leave the coffee shop and wonder is this what it’s like to have friends, is this what connecting with someone feels like? If so, I apologise to those who state they’re alone but never lonely because connection is draining and depleting. Tomorrow I will return to my seat and watch the world around me. Hey, it’s not too bad at £4.10 per coffee.