Me time, part 4 (B)

Today's me time posting had to take two entries.  First, I have too many thoughts in my mind to create any single entry that would make any sense to anyone other than me.  Second, I need to focus my thoughts about my progress with ME in their own spot, I don't want to mix them too much with other stuff that goes on in my head.  Three, it's totally unfair to any reader to have to scroll for days just to read about two hours of my life in a restaurant.  So, this is my part B entry for my me time today.

Today I took notes.  I already talked about how hard it was for me to focus today, and taking notes at least keeps me reminded that I had a thought.  So often I have too many thoughts at a single time to keep them straight even to myself, so I agreed to let myself rely on my pen and paper today. 

I got to Panera this morning, unsure of what the morning would bring.  The past three visits, I knew that I was taking time for me, and I really wanted it.  Today I didn't have that entirely selfish feeling about it, though.  I can't pin point it, I can't make sense of it.  I just felt differently this morning (one might qualify that feeling as "hungover", but, I hesitate to use that word just yet, I have felt worse in the past).  OK, move on.

I approached the counter and waited my turn to order, catching the eye of the girl behind the counter.  I can't tell if the staff are beginning to recognize me, and it doesn't matter if they do, but it always feels nice when someone remembers you.  Well, me.  Anyway, I soon realized that the girl's eyes meeting mine might have been a cry for help from the guy in front of me.  The man in front of me stood probably just over 6 feet tall, is probably in his early 60's, and was dressed well, including a nice hat.  You just don't see men, or women for that matter, wearing nice hats that often these days.  A ball cap, usually, but not a nice brimmed topper with a gentle pucker in the top for easy application.  He was holding a book in the crook of his arm, "The Modern Gentleman", and I could see that he was exemplary of the title.  His ability to order food and drink, though, were blatantly lacking.  The poor girl behind the counter had to explain to him that he could order his food from her, she would tell him the total cost, he would pay her, and the food could be collected at the counter to his right.  Now I thought I had issues with ordering in a coffee shop, but this guy made me feel like I was a pro.  I lost count at three times that she showed him where he would collect his sandwhich after it was freshly made to his specificiations.  After repeating that the bread was only lightly buttered, no mayo, she reminded him again where he could find the desired condements should his sandwhich need additional decoration.  Excited to have grasped the concept, he nearly vacated his place in line before the girl behind the counter returned his credit card and gave him his receipt and "your food's ready" light-up square.  After completing the transaction fully, it was then my turn to order.

I decided not to set my sights on the mug today.  I was satisfied with the paper cup idea, and knowing I could take it home with me, and I wouldn't have to get up to refill too often, as I would with the mug.  I just didn't have it in me today to put that much effort into my coffee.  I opted not to order food, I don't like to overachieve on mornings like this.  So I paid my fee and turned to the table with the coffee.  I was shocked, left vulnerable, and unsure what to do.  The hazlenut coffee was not on the table.  Oh no.  Are they not offering it today?  Did I miss something?  Were they cutting costs?  What happened??  Slowly, I got a grip on myself and turned around to see a young guy with his Panera shirt and name tag on.  I didn't bother to read his name, I needed coffee, his name didn't matter to me.  I asked if the hazlenut was brewing, and he flashed a sympathetic smile and told me yes, it would be ready in a few minutes.  Whew!  I relaxed and agreed to wait at my chosen spot until the brew arrived.  For a moment, though, I contemplated the light roast and thought about how much extra half and half and sugar I would add if I went that route, or perhaps I should go to the counter and explain that I don't like unflavored coffee and I would prefer a mocha or a latte or something else that I don't know how to order just for the sake of having something to drink while I hogged a seat in a restaurant for way longer than you should be allowed to do.  Thankfully, none of that action was required, and soon the hazlenut arrived to the table.  I could tell I wasn't the only one who was caught off guard, as I noticed the coffee was tapped almost as soon as the girl brought it to the table.  OK, mission salvaged.

I chose a seat along the wall in the same area I sat in last week.  I realized that sitting with my back to the majority of the action was too uncomfortable for me, so I chose the bench seat along the wall so that I could take in more of the scenery.  I sat close enough to the window that I was able to drink up the plentiful sunshine, despite the fact that my eyes and head didn't seem to be on board with the plan.  My mind and body yearn for a good dose of sunshine this time of year, but, the eye and head team don't often play nice in that sandbox.  Of course, taking them all to the bar last night didn't really do much for getting them all on the same page.  Still, I knew that the sun would be good for me, and I took my place on the bench seat.  I noticed immediately that the two men in this seat last week were at one of the high tables along the window.  Lucky dogs.  The man with the yellow sweater was at the same table as last week, but, the sweater was a different color.  I didn't notice the color of his sweater this week, I hadn't had my coffee yet.  I did notice, though, when he left that his soft scarf was a very pretty buttery yellow, so he did continue the theme this week.  It's a nice color on him, too.  After settling in my seat, I noticed that I probably followed a pack of wolves by the look of the mess on the floor and three small tables pushed together.  I am always amazed at how difficult it appears to be for some people to aim for the mouth, and to succeed in that endeavour.  Laying judgement aside, I kept the seat because it was too much effort to move, and I didn't want to look stupid. 

Ignoring my eyes and their request to be hidden, I stared outside at the softly falling snow.  We're not getting the 2 feet of snow that they got out East, but, there was some snow falling.  It was almost like a movie where the snow is falling slowly just for the sake of allowing the camera to catch its white beauty.  The thought kept entering my mind, "Can you hear the snow falling?".  Odd thought, I guess.  Anyway, I stared at the snow as it fell on the parking lot, and it was very calming.  My eyes won the battle and their cries to make me stop looking out the window were heeded, as I returned my sights on the customers exiting the dining area.  For the most part ,the crowd is dressed pretty well.  I already admitted I'm definitely not a fashion plate, but, that's not to say that I live in the slummy clothes that I was wearing on my first visit here.  I know what's within the acceptable boundaries of good taste and obvious effort when you dress to leave your house and present yourself to the general public.  At least, I would argue that I do.  What puzzles me, though, are people like one woman I saw who gave no impression of effort, and left no doubt that she'd literally just rolled out of bed.  Baggy sweat pants, oversized boots, a jacket two sizes too big, and hair that needed some desperate attention, I couldn't believe that she really left the house and agreed with herself that she looked alright to go out somewhere and eat.  I know it's not the 95th or anything, but even *I* brushed my hair.  I wonder what the man with the hat would have thought.  Or the mid-60's gentleman with two lady friends at a table near the door, wearing their Sunday's best.  Oh well, I guess that's how things are today.  The place is casual, so why put the effort into your own appearance?  I don't certainly mean that one should wear make up, a suit and tie, or go to that extreme, but, at least brush your hair and put on sweats that fit you.  And to the woman with the purse that literally hung to her knee, time for a new purse.  Seriously, no purse was ever intended to hang at your knee.  Messenger bag, look into it.  Thank you.

It wasn't long before the two gentlemen at the tall table retreated to journey on with their Sundays.  One guy grabbed his paper and coffee and headed right for the door.  The other made an obligatory call home before getting up from the table.  After he slowly departed the restaurant, I looked around the area and noticed that I was the only one in the whole area.  Well, besides two women at a table next to the door, but, they were pretty deep in their conversation, so I knew that they didn't notice anything that was going on around them.  This was my chance to try the tall table by the window.  By now, my eyes had adjusted to the sun light and I wasn't entirely comfortable on the bench seat.  Once I got up the guts, I moved to the tall table by the window.  It felt good to be that much closer to the window where I could feel the sun shine on my face.  It was a little more comfortable, too, with the taller seat, firm seat back, and I was able to rest my feet on the seat across from me.  There were some crumbs on the table, but, the two gentlemen before me were definitely neater than whomever had preceeded me at my previous seat along the wall. 

The nice manager, I think her name tag said "Laurie", came by to clean the tables, and asked if I minded her cleaning mine.  I told her that was no problem for me and I tried to move my book and coffe out of her way, and she picked up my sunglasses off the table.  As she went to lay them back down, they slipped from her hand and she joked that she'd just scratched my expensive shades, to which I just had to laugh.  We continued a little joking about the merits of buying inexpensive sunglasses and the inhernt risk of loss and damage when we spend more money.  Just then, the lady in the Alaska sweatshirt who'd just arrived said that she never paid more than $X for sunglasses until she got prescription ones, which she promptly broke.  We three shared some fun blips about cheap sunglasses and where to get the cheapest, but, decent looking, sunglasses.  The Alaska lady went to the counter to order, and Laurie continued on with her duties.  I went back to my book, then glanced out the window to see the guy with the pulled back (from last week) walking toward the store.  Ah, a familiar face.  As he entered the restaurant, he immediately found a spot (where the man in the yellow sweater had been sitting) and then went to the counter to order.

I have to tangent for a moment to note that I don't know that I've ever rested my things before going to the counter to order.  I kind of do it the old school way by entering, ordering, then sitting.  Both the guy with the pulled back and Alaska lady sat first, then ordered.  Hm.

Turns out, pulled back guy and Alaska lady know each other.  It wasn't long before Alaska lady was joined by a pleasant woman in a bright, striped turtle neck, and I realized that these were the ladies from the table beside me last week, who talked about the census.  Ah, this appears to be a regular meeting time and place for the ladies.  It was just me, the ladies, and the pulled back guy in our area, so I was able to hear most of what they talked about.  This added to my difficulty focusing on my book, but I decided not to fight it and just listen to whatever my mind picked out in the room.  It almost seems unfair, too, that I am learning so much about all these strangers and they know nothing of me.  I'm there by myself, yet they are there together sharing snippets with each other, and as a result, with me.  Anyway, this week I found out that pulled back guy has a son of unknown (to me) age, and I believe has a lady in his life expecting a child (his?), is a teacher, didn't vote Tuesday due to oversleeping and time constraints, he doesn't like Melville, wanted the Saints to win the Super Bowl.  Of the three ladies from last week, one was not going to be joining the other two.  One of the ladies borrowed Love, Actually from pulled back guy, which led to a discussion about Love, Actually vs. Gone With the Wind (random); both ladies were rooting for the Colts, and the great things about Netflix.  All this conversation is nice and chatty, but, I get the feeling that these ladies are at Panera for more than just girl talk and seeing pulled back guy.  They're here to make plans, to take action, and make changes in their worlds.  They didn't get to discussing their thoughts on the census before I realized that it was time for me to leave.

I knew I wasn't focusing my thoughts and energy on me, which is the point for my alone time, so I decided to pack it up.  As I did, a man in a Bears hat, blue shirt, and blue and orange vest approached the table of two of the three ladies, and soon sat to discuss the Super Bowl and why he decided it didn't matter to him who wins the game.  He appeared to be alone, had already gotten his coffe, and sat at a table beside the ladies.  His demeanor was almost guarded as he approached their table, as if he was prepared to battle over the football game or the comparison between Love, Actually and GWTW, or maybe he doesn't like Netflix.  Who knows.  I didn't stay long enough to find out.  As I left the restaurant, pulled back guy was engrossed in something on his laptop, the two of three ladies were talking to the guy in the Bears hat, and the man in the hat from earlier was seated near the big comfy chairs reading a book.  I don't recall seeing him leave, but, he must have because his copy of "The Modern Gentleman" rested on the table next to the new book, a very thick piece which he was thoroughly intersted in at that moment.  His hat lay next to the Gentleman book.

I left the restaurant and headed to the store for a few things before heading home.  I'm not sure if the tall table is just right for me, but am willing to give it a try again next time.  The tall table gave me a new perspective, a new angle on the area I sat in.  Perhaps I need to try another spot to get yet another angle, another perspective.  Just as I likely should do in my own life, find a new angle, a new perspective.  My reading, and knowing I have ADD are both my tall table, allowing me to now seek that new angle, that new perspective.  And even a new cup of coffee.