A Drop in the Ocean
As the school day comes to an end and students hurry to return to their dorms, the Starbucks in Cottrell Hall is finally beginning to slow down. It is too dark outside to only be 6 pm. I have never been a huge coffee drinker. Tea has always been my go-to when I need caffeine.
The workers bustle around, fulfilling orders and cleaning up where they can. Each one probably counting down the hours until they can close the store and finally end their work day. As I sit and work, I notice the students around me and the occasional person going in and out of the store to retrieve their mobile orders. The only consistencies in the room are the tables and the baristas fulfilling every order.
Most students walk in without interacting with the workers. They take their order and go, hardly looking up from their phones. The longer I sit, the more I notice a pattern. I realize how little we pay attention to the world around us. How easy it is to forget that the people we see on campus and in Starbucks are real people, too. People with lives, friends, and stories that we brush off. We ignore everyone. We push people to the background of our little world.
Strangely enough, the people we ignore most frequently are the people that make our experience in a cafe possible. Even as the baristas bustle around, we become engrossed in our own work and ignore their presence. I wonder, “Why do we do this?” How is it so easy to ignore the people standing ten feet away from us? The people who serve us? It feels so cold. Removed. Vain.
So today, I made it my goal to pay closer attention to the people I saw. I watched the baristas laugh and talk with one another when the orders slowed. I imagined scenarios for the people that came by. Once I made up lives and stories, these strangers began to seem more human. I related to them more when I imagined that they were rushing home to take their dog out or planning to take a nap after a late class.
However, I still struggled to understand why we “ignore” the people around us. Then it struck me. This Starbucks is a constant on campus. Whether it is the bustling of the baristas, the quiet music, or the chatter from other students, there is comfort in the familiarity of the scene. We don’t truly ignore the people here or exclude them from our little world. The chairs, the coffee, and the baristas are familiar. They are permanent fixtures in this space that bring us comfort when we need to focus and work. Even without interaction, I feel comforted by the noises and atmosphere.
After I leave, Starbucks will stay consistent until close. Then, tomorrow, like every other day, it will open and continue to provide that familiar ambiance. I began my time feeling discouraged at the “lack of human connection” in this coffee shop. But I was wrong. You play a minor role in the life of everyone you come into contact with, even if there is no interaction. Our presence in a coffee shop shows a common human desire to be surrounded by comfort and familiarity. We do not need to make waves of change to be considered important. Sometimes, value is found in the familiar face that stands out among the ocean of people we see every day.
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About them beans
Who: A quiet student.
Where: Cottrell Starbucks at High Point University
When: Wednesday evening in the third week of January.
What I’m drinking: Matcha Latte
