Never have I adopted the habit of regularly attending a coffee shop for coffee and correspondence. The nature of my frequency at local beaneries has always included a gastronomic element – customarily beyond sweet accessories – more plated meals. Historically – that is, every morning from 1976 (when I arrived in Almonte) to 1997 (when I had my precipitous open heart surgery), I broke the fast at the Superior Restaurant on Mill Street with another 5 regulars (who likewise ate a breakfast whether simple toast or bacon, eggs, toast and peanut butter as I did).
The primary motivation behind the congress was work; that is, the participants were all employed en ville – land surveyor (W. Ross Taggart, OLS), antique dealer (Garry J. Davis), hair dresser (Nicholas Magus), funeral director (John H. Kerry), lawyer (L. G. William Chapman BA LLB). Only one of our number (Joe Sensenstein) was from the outset fully retired. Occasionally we had to expand our conference to the booth across the aisle to include a visit from Mr. Justice C. James Newton QC or another infrequent and unanticipated interloper.
The austerity of the confab was predicted by the hour. There were shop doors to open – all within walking distance from the restaurant. At quarter to nine, movement began. Our fleeting departure was skillfully moderated by our waitress Mrs. Gladys Currie who knew our daily menu and account by rote.
Today I am installed at Equator Coffee on another of Almonte’s main streets. Equator is an authentic coffee shop. From my ancestral perspective Equator is new (though I recall it began more years ago than I remember).
The people here noticeably linger as long as they wish to do so, as long as the buoyant conversation persists or until whatever laptop or other computer device has exhausted its necessity. Although there are common exceptions, most people here are far younger than I. Generally speaking there is no one here whom I recognize. My notoriety at the “Soup” has long ago evaporated. Nonetheless the effervescence of the chatter and clang of the coffee shop affords a pleasant offset from one’s daily affairs. It is remarkable too that the “double espresso” (they’re all double shots unless for example you order a “quad” – but frankly it’s a distinction without a difference) is more than adequate strength and digestibility for a guaranteed caffeine “buzz”. I had two.
Honestly I had hoped today’s visit might have promoted additional capital but I am gratified to have sought and defined a local diversion. The intensity of my country road rambles (a product of the generous electric capacity of the vehicle) is a tempting attraction. But when my instincts suggest an alternative – for whatever the reason – my training tells me to obey. So I paused for the moment. Long ago I learned that questioning instinct is a self-evident contradiction. Thus, today’s outing, though having not the surplus of camaraderie, has proven most enjoyable. I’ve overheard bits of conversation – just the odd word which grabbed my notice (such as the “proper” pronunciation of Cape Breton; viz., “KepBRETon”). I’ve listened to modern music and jazz suitable to a coffee house. The whether is divine. And – as increasingly becomes a prerequisite of any activity – I am close to home and I haven’t far to walk to the car.
Post Sciptum:
Just as I was about to leave a gentleman materialized aside my small round table. It was David Overholt, a former client. He advised me that he had just collected his wife Carol from the hospital following her exceedingly successful overnight hip replacement surgery. Thankfully early in our ensuing conversation I detailed my failing memory. When I asked after David’s father, he – without a hint of annoyance – informed me that his father had died. And that I had settled his estate. From there our colloquialisms descended to a near esoteric discussion of Land Titles, Abstracts of Title, Crown Patents and Indentures. He mentioned Gordie Donaldson, OLS whom I favourably recalled. Apparently Overholt, Donaldson and others have a regular klatch at Equator Coffee.
Editor’s Note: featured image by js