Jukebox, part 2

Other times, it is completely clear where the song comes from.

I have a playlist called "motivation.inspiration" - yes, I am one of those...earphones, in and oblivious to the world. It is a mishmash of old and new favorites -- with plenty of Sade, but also a ton of Pink.

They are the songs, not necessarily motivational or inspirational, that make me want to get up and dance, sing along and/or cry.

There is rarely a song that I want to skip. And my heart and soul feel warmed when they come on as though the universe were reading my mind and knowing just what song I needed to hear.

This one filled my ears the other day as I was writing myself a love letter at SB. It was just what I needed to hear at that moment. Blessings!

For B

Sometimes, it is not the right answer to talk to strangers.

There was the time when the crazy beret wearing older gentleman wouldn't go away ... and ever after, I had to keep my head down to keep from making eye contact so he wouldn't come over ... and talk my ear off, or say inappropriate things to me.

Yeah {sigh} ... there are definitely times when just keeping your head down is good.

The other day, though, I didn't really have a choice ... because the place was full, and I need to squat somewhere while some table opened up.  It usually doesn't take long for some place to open up.  So, I approached an older Asian gentleman I have seen in here a lot, but who I had never spoken to.

I didn't think it would necessarily make us friends.  I said hello, thank you, and put my headphones in.

But, now, I am his "friend" [read: target] and I had to be super brusque with him to get him to leave me alone and let me do my work... I hate having to be "rude" in order to get the point across... and it didn't exactly work, as I actually told him twice that I had to do work.  Then I had to continue to keep my head down to not make eye contact, which is, apparently, universal signal for "I want to talk to you."  Finally, after SEVERAL hours, he decided to take his staring outside for other targets. Man, this is a full time job ... stalking women at the sb, I mean.

I am not usually bothered... but, seriously, I don't do that to anyone, so, I don't want them to do it to me, that's all ... and it is almost invariably man on woman.  One of these days, I am going to turn the table, and flirt with every man younger than me, and stare at them and act like they are target pieces of meat.

I won't actually because it is too creepy for words.

************** in unrelated news:
some other dude, who had been in here working longer than me, so for over two hours, spilled his coffee, cleaned the seat, and then left ... super rude, since he didn't go up to the staff and tell them himself.  Luckily another regular did go back and tell the staff. I was about to, when I saw them approaching with the mop.

May December April January

The last month seemed to be the month of the older gentleman, younger woman at sb.

Sometime a few weeks ago, I witnessed an odd gathering.

A white man who appears to be in his late 60s or early 70s came in with a young, immigrant woman -- potentially from Central or South America.  [How did I know she was an immigrant? I don't know, but it was confirmed later.]

He was wearing a wedding ring -- and pushed two tables together.

She had a glass of water and he bought one coffee -- tall.

I was able to see that she was wearing a combo engagement and wedding ring.

A little bit after they arrived, another couple came in and sat with them. This couple was of the age of the man -- and also white.

The young woman engaged the older woman in conversation.  The two men eventually took out papers; they looked like tax documents.

It was all very innocent -- that is, not controversial - but I had a pit in my stomach.  Whatever.

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About a week later, I witnessed another couple ... this time, a man, two women and a baby came in and sat in front of me.  It was obviously his baby -- he doted like only a new father can, late in life father at that (he was easily late forties).

One of the women was about five years older than the new daddy.

The other woman seemed to be about 15 years younger than the new daddy.

I figured out that the older woman was the younger woman's mother ... I am still trying to figure out why they were meeting (didn't come together) at the sb.

It was again, not controversial, but it struck a chord in me for reasons that I cannot really explain.

It might have something to do with the fact that the "couple" were wearing matching clothing ... matching sunglasses, pants rolled up in the same way, and matching boots.  A teenage couple showing up looking like twins would not make me take a second look -- but this new family?  Weird vibe ... who is reaching for whose age?

It is not clear.
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Then, I saw that first couple again... this time on their own.  She was carrying a book for learning English as a second language.  He had a back pack with an ipad and a newspaper.   Again ... only one cup of coffee (to share -- tall) and a glass of water (free)...

I know that my discomfort with this couple is mostly based on the projection of my feelings ... and the prickly-ness I feel when I see certain micro actions between them -- bad memories.

But, something happened that second day between them ... I am not sure what it was, because, though I noted them come in and the coffee/water/ipad/book thing, I had my earphones in.  I just saw a change in body language later on that said "we've had a disagreement" (again) and that also signalled some weird power thing that I cannot give you evidence for ... it's just a feeling.

I don't know why I keep noticing this age difference in couples, perhaps there is something my subconscious is trying to tell me.

Ratios and Demographics

Am I crazy or is it true that more men than women come to the sb to do work, alone?

Students don't comprise this subset. So there are often women alone and in groups at sb. But the "do work not at the office" crowd seems to be overwhelmingly male.

Why should that be the case? Or is it just this sb and just that one day?

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I don't have the energy to write more ... Gallup was fun on Tuesday, but it snowed pretty continuously from 10am, and I got on the road in what felt like driving snow... and 60 miles later it turned into hail before it turned to rain before it cleared up.

So, I am exhausted...

seen at sb

picture this:

about 4
scraggly blond hair
green shirt
tights but no pants
and
RED
cowboy boots

... now that's living...

Another one of the many uses of SB...

{While I am away, I am offering some things I have seen in the past few weeks but didn't get a chance to post before ... stories from Canada will follow my return.}

I drive by this building occasionally, it's called Neutral Corner.  Whenever I see it, there is a little pang.  I feel for the families that need a safe place to make custodial exchanges.  Sometimes, I am feeling less charitable and wonder how it gets that bad.  But, I guess I can imagine any number of scenarios that would require this level of intervention in order to keep all parties safe.

I have witnessed several tense discussions between split up co-parents... including using sb as the drop off point.  But the other day, I saw something I hadn't seen before.  The dad came in with the two kids.  I guess I should have wondered when they didn't buy anything. 

The dad held the son on his lap and the daughter was next to them, eating out of a bag of chips.  I kept waiting for a mom to join them with hot drinks, but she never did.  I tried to get the little boy to talk to me because he had his face painted.  But big sister did all the talking.  Dad laughed at the son not being willing to say anything, just nod or shake his head.

I went back to my work because that is why I was there, after all.  And a little bit later, I noted that everyone (dad and two kids) was looking towards the door.  The daughter looked at the door and then her father.  No one came in the door, and I didn't see anyone outside of the door either.  Then the packing up and hugging started. 

The dad didn't seem to want to let go of his son, but he did.  Then he hugged the girl and packed her up with backpack and lunch bag.  Off they went, jauntily, through the door, seemingly just out into the darkness alone.

Then I saw a figure standing about three feet from the door, near the steps up to the entrance.  Apparently that was as close as she was going to get.   Soon the two kids were being hugged on the other end by the shadowy figure I saw through the window. 

I let the scene register in my mind.

And then I heard sobbing.  I tried not to look over.  This must be the kind of excruciating pain they went through on both sides each time...

...what a way to live.

power and control

I sat in sb trying desperately to be interested in my work, but as I put in my headphones, I overheard this:
"well, I know this is hard for you, but you could have chosen to use a condom..."

There was more, but I rushed to turn up the music so as not to hear. It was a tense interchange that continued for longer than 20 minutes.

One might argue it was just another difficult discussion between a mom who is not getting child support from the father of her children. It was fairly clear that they were not married, never married. But they seemed to have two kids together, so they must have been a couple at some point.

It was, in fact, much more than a conversation about money or support or responsibility. It was clear to me and my study companion as well as to the two of them.

It was a conversation about control and power. It was a negotiation about submission and domination. It was a yearning for the ability to use power and control to bend someone else's emotions.

In the moment I was struck by how unequal the power dynamic could appear ... she was white and a professional. He was an immigrant and seemingly struggling to make ends meet, though he was drinking a venti frappaccino which must have set him back more than $5 and then another large drink.

[aside: I mean, I am always interested in people who claim poverty who hang out at sb. In fact, I am frequently asked this by folks in a not so caring way. Truthfully, I am paying for the right to be in their air conditioning or heat, depending on the season. At first, I didn't have a chair in my apartment, making my time at sb even more precious. But, I buy one drink that I can get refilled three or four times for free... so I pay less than $3 for four to six hours of study time. Back to the story...]

The richness of the power dynamic did not stop there, however. One of the first snatches I heard between them was his chuckle and her indigent question/demand: "why are you laughing at me?" I am sure in all break ups and custody battles, the people play off each other's weaknesses... it would seem that we have only loved someone in order to find their weak spots so that at some point exploit them to our advantage. [Super cynical...did I really say that? It is a sad admission of things I have seen but would rather never participate in again.]

Another thought that crossed my mind, was in this struggle for power and control, who was protecting the interests of the children? There are many ways to co-parent, or not co-parent as the case may be, but these folks did not seem to be interested in finding accommodation in order to benefit their children.

I won't pretend to understand the intricacies of custody battles or negotiations (I hope some of them are not so contentious that they all must be called battles). But I was left wondering how any child's welfare could be considered in the midst of so much ego.

SB Reentry

My first day back in sb, this is what I encounter:

These little girls are something else. Little, is relative, here. They are probably 15, maybe 16, maybe 14. They are waiting for one of their fathers to come pick them up.

Three of them, come in and sit in different places but then speak loudly enough to talk to each other from different parts of the cafe.

Two are reading a book that is supposed to teach them "dirty Spanish." The third is busy, "checking in all three of us" and texting unknown people, I am guessing young men.

Yeah... I had barely gotten settled when they arrived and I struggled to quickly disentangle my headphones so I could escape their conversation.

I am a little out of practice in the sit in sb and get stuff done department.

remember that great idea ...

I had about collecting all the weird fb like strings of words I was sometimes thinking ...

well, I don't know if it is the lack of sleep or the crazy amount of work that I am trying to do ... or the information overload or overdrive, but I am thinking like that again.

So, sorry... here it is, essentially one evening studying at my usual spot:

Appreciating the beauty of the play list … every song is one of your favorites!

But also missing the spontaneity of hearing some great song you haven't heard in a long while…

I need to know how many calories I am burning while using the brain cells. Some, right?

If I am going to live at sb, shouldn’t I just come in my pjs and bring my blankie?

I get to watch a lot of "checking out" techniques at the sb. It's somewhat oddly comforting to see that men ogle men just as blatantly as they do women. Yeah, meats are in the case.

Swagger

From the seen at sb journal ... from the archives because I am supposed to be writing my paper right now...

Swagger just walked in and sat down in front of me. Good thing I was already packing to leave.

I don't know if I can do the scene justice. Swagger is that thing you know when you see it but perhaps the description looks slightly different depending on who is writing it.

He walked in like he owned the joint and surveyed his kingdom with a sweep of his head, entire body engaged in looking "handsome" and "winning."

I enjoy a particular kind of swagger as much as the next girl. I like it particularly in the body of a firefighter and not so much in the body of a police officer.

This guy, though, made me want to run out of the building and wash my hands... something too slippery about this guy.

And then the woman he was meeting walked in ... she hugged him like her life depended on it and I could sense how long and hard she has been working at getting this guy to do more than f*ck her.

Sleazy in the body of a rejected fashion model. I wish I could be more precise, it was more of a feeling than anything else.

Coupled part 1

I have never seen them at a table. They are usually on the comfy chairs. He always on the computer and she always grasped by the hand.

They are both pretty short. He can't be over 5'8" and she seems shorter than me but may just be my height 5'6". He is African American and often wears loose pants with a long shirt over them, and sometimes a little hat. I am sure that there are specific names for the clothes, but I don't know them. Sometimes she wears them too. She is blond and looks up and only seems to look at him directly.

She was looking through a large coffee table book when I arrived. A few times she got up and went over to the condiment island. She shuffles, head down in the most servile way. Does she always have her head covered?

Then she moved her chair next to him. She watches his lips move as he reads to her. She glances at the screen. Her gaze doesn't show interest as much as servile.

Maybe I am projecting. I have the headphones on so I cannot hear what he is saying.

When his hands are on the keyboard, she strokes his knee. They both wear wedding rings, but there is some odd power dynamic that defies the perception of the devoted married couple.

She moves the chairs, watches like a hawk for the comfy chairs, waiting for one to open up. I mean waiting for it... standing right next to a person who gives the inkling that he/she will leave. She waits, not truly patiently, though she doesn't say anything, and then she pounces. He comes over and takes the seat, then she goes off in hunt for a chair to sit next to him.

Despite the fact that she is always giving off the lowly woman vibe, she clearly knows her role and relishes it, performing it with exactitude and fierceness. She secures the seating... just like he likes it. If she can't do it right away, she becomes the sentry on the look out for just the right seating...goldilocks style.

I always wondered what they were reading on the computer, and then they sat next to me the other day instead of across from me. They just use the internet... they read articles. The only ones I could make out where the celebrity chisme articles. And, he really reads then aloud to her. Can she not read? Or is it something to do with their power dynamic.

It's awful, but I can't help but think of the Garridos when I see these two. I am not saying that they have some young blond woman they abducted from somewhere sequestered in their backyard, but it is just such an odd relationship.

You will have to make up the pictures for yourself.

Location:Historic U.S. 66,Albuquerque,United States

mis viejitos

UDPATE added below...

Not the ones that live in California. I don't think I will ever actually refer to them that way. I just don't feel them as viejitos.

But the two that come in to sb every evening, now those two are viejitos. Most evenings, that is. Somewhere between 7:30p and 8:30p they shuffle in with their canes.

In the summer, they always enjoyed the late evening on the patio. Now that it is getting cooler (actually cold but I am still in denial) they sit inside.

Lately there has been one extra person with them, maybe a daughter or son or niece or nephew.

It is noticeable because neither will allow the extra one to pay or carry the large mug to the table. They always get a to stay mug. At least one drinks hot chocolate with whipped cream.

Every once in a while I sit near enough and take my earphones out and one or the other wants to know what I am reading and why.

When I am sb late and they don't show up, I get worried. Funny how you can worry about someone whose name you don't even know.
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One of the reasons I posted this was because I hadn't seen them in a bit. I thought it was because I had not been at the right times, but I suspect, now, that is not true.

Tonight as I entered SB they were here and another man, not with them, but someone who knew them, I think from here, was talking to them. It sounded like the "younger" one, the one who carries the cups and is so fiercely against any kind of help, has been sick. The other man said something to the effect that my viejito #1 was probably tired of seeing the inside of a hospital and that he "had been through it" quite a bit lately.

He, el viejito #1, was quiet and looked sad the whole time I was here. I imagine that he didn't appreciate being reminded of his fragility. From what I have observed, he doesn't much enjoy not being in control of his physical abilities. It made me want to cry and not want to ever grow old.

Then the firemen came in. Since viejito #1 was so morose and not talking to viejito #2, he (v#2) decided to engage the fireman (younger) in conversation. He was asking about the "heavy rescue" truck ... what was it for? What did these firemen do?

When fireman (older) came over, I missed that part of the conversation except that he said something to v#1 about being sorry that he had not been feeling well and was glad he was out again.

We are all regulars, so in some bizarre way connected yet we don't know each others' names... what a world internet, what a world.

SB Roundup

This has been a very productive week in terms of sightings at the sbucks.

You already know about the man in black. He rated a separate post. These are just fleeting glimpses of the others. Perhaps you will get the impression that I have not been as intensively focused on my work as I should be especially given the quantity and time constraints.

But these really were just glances. I looked up, something caught my eye and I noted it.

I swear.

Gold running shoes on an otherwise unassuming book reader in comfy chair.

Large pink calculator across from red skinned Mac with matching red phone. These ladies know how to pick electronic devices.

Then of course there was the little cat on a leash.