Today my roommate Logan and I went to a small cafe near Benson that we’ve been wanting to try for a while. Its chipped paint and charming coffee mural were enough to make our hearts swoon. Let me tell you what I loved so much about this place…
There were mostly older people sitting in the booths around us. They sat across from their friends and colleagues and enjoyed great conversation over black coffee.
Something felt wrong about being on your phone. Nobody told me to stay off of it but whenever I would open up the screen I felt a tinge of guilt, almost like I was doing a disservice to the place and its people.
We sat ourselves and were met with kind service and hot coffee. I don’t know what it is about those cafe mugs but I just wanted to take one home, knowing that if I did it wouldn’t be near as special as it was there. I felt like I owed the person across from me and the people around me every ounce of my attention.
We met a young family next to us, learned all their names, and reciprocated kind conversation until it was time to leave. In the meantime we forgot about homework that was due, next semester’s classes, and the busy-ness of life. All of the sudden our main priority was seeing how many more refills we could get on our coffee without having to pay extra. (The answer is limitless by the way)
The breakfast was good but nothing extraordinary. The people were kind but not obnoxious. The place was quaint but not quiet. It was a little piece of something great in a slow moving area. The most attractive thing about it was it’s authenticity and contentment to be just what it is.
These are all the things I am reminded of when I take the time to slow down. To slow yourself is a choice. A difficult one. However, the rewards of doing so far outweigh any required effort. It is an art that needs to be mastered and one that will take time but I’m glad Joe’s Cafe was there to remind me…