He walked into the coffee shop and ordered a Triple, Large, Half Sweet, Non-Fat, Caramel Macchiato.
He waited impatiently while stroking his goatee, fixing his large black-rimmed glasses, and checking his twitter account. They called his name twice. He didn’t answer because by that time he was in the middle of typing a massive email to someone who was “in the know.”Or at least need to know that he knew he was in the know and knowing that is just as important as knowing one’s favorite craft beer.
After the third call he gave them his best fake apology and grabbed his obnoxious coffee drink and went to sit down near the window so more people might see him. He took off his black coat to reveal another black blazer over a black turtleneck shirt. He took a small sip and savored the sweetened caffeinated drink. He then pulled out his Macbook Air, waited for the Wi-Fi to connect and spent the next three hours browsing his Facebook account, his Twitter account. Sending and replying to his emails. Refresh the Google News aggregate. After the third hour, he started to finally work on typing some of his would-be masterpiece. His great novel which will be be talked about and written about for years and years and years. It will be so complex and mysterious hundreds of books will be written on its various interpretations.
He wrote five hundred words. Five hundred words is not bad. It’s better than what he wrote two weeks ago. Which was only around two hundred words. He looked at his wristwatch and realized he needed to go grab some groceries from the organic market for the dinner he planned to prepare for himself that very same evening. He checked his smartphone to confirm the time was the same as it was on his wristwatch. It was. And then he left the coffee shop.
I like writing in a coffee shop. But whenever I say I enjoy writing in a coffee shop people often picture the aforementioned scenario. Honestly I wrote a good portion of my first novel in random coffee shops. Not because I wanted people to see me there or wanted to fit an image people have of writing in a coffee shop. I have found it is just easier for me to focus in a coffee shop. My natural shy tendency toward any random stranger helps me better focus. I know it sounds crazy but it is true.
If I am home I can get easily distracted by Netflix or cleaning my house or cooking myself a meal or trying out a new mix drink I found while browsing the internet or playing some music and dancing to it like a fool. And yes! I even sing on occasion while badly playing my guitar. Things like that.
So the next time you see someone sitting at a computer writing remember not all of us are pretentious assholes trying to fulfill some fantasy. Some of us are in fact trying to write something worth reading. But most of them are pretentious assholes.
Originally published at www.jordanaubryrobison.com on February 17, 2014.