The lunch hour is one of those moments in the day that many desk sitting Nine-to-Fivers take for granted. It's the time in the day that can often be passed by eating microwaveable meals at a desk, or used as nothing more than a quick moment to grab a $5 foot long up the street. But, it's always been my belief that the lunch hour is the most sacred part of the work day. It's the time you take to escape from the reality of whatever it is that's consuming you for eight hours. Whatever takes over your thoughts, your priorities, your dreams, your inspirations. It's the moment to let them all come back to fruit, the moment when you can take a step out of the stress and enjoy whatever it is that fulfills you- even if all that is, is simply Teriyaki in a styrafoam box.
Today, I decided to escape for my lunch hour to none other than my neighborhood. Having already nibbled on my lunch throughout the day at my desk, I decided I wanted nothing more than an ice tea and my latest paperback read. But, as I stood outside the once-local, now-global coffee joint many Seattlites know as the Evil Coffee Empire, I found myself not only enjoying the flow of voice and words from the author I was immersed in, I also found myself curiously and happily distracted by a copious amount of things happening around me. For some, this would be a bother, for me it was both refreshing and intriguing.
My first distraction came from that of a young woman, probably no more than 21, no less than 18 crudely saying while spitting a loogey on the ground, "Where's the fucking Starbucks?" (which happened to be right in front of her face). With her tummy quite obviously hanging out and her pants far too low, I tried so hard to let judgments that came to mind go as quickly as they entered, but I found myself wondering about her. Wondering what her childhood was like. Wondering what her family was like. Wondering what in her life caused her to feel like she had to act so, "tough". It was then that she immediately came out of "The Locally Global Evil Coffee Empire" and said to her friend, "I can't go in there, EVERYONE is looking at me." And at that moment a rush of guilt came over me as I knew I was one of them. She soon disappeared with her friend and I continued on with my reading, still wondering about her- that was of course until a woman sat down in the chair that once cushioned the seat of the girl who spat and I knew this because the first words from the new woman were, "There's spit all over this table!"
I assume the new woman cleaned whatever mess bothered her, because she ended up sitting down with her school of children that were all her daughters. I read away, focused on the dialogue in my book, coming in and out of listening to the woman's daughters beg for a chocolate chip cookie and then found myself distracted by the number of other little girls who passed by with their moms who happened to know these daughters of the woman sitting down. I made the assumption that they went to one of the local schools there in my neighborhood- trying to decide if it was the public school or the private and then being taken back to the good old days of school year summers when your biggest worry was wether or not you could have a chocolate chip cookie. As the table full of daughters and a mom continued on, I continued on reading, until once again I found myself distracted- this time by a homeless man.
This homeless man is a man anyone from my neighborhood would recognize. He spends his days walking up and down the streets, talking to whoever and whatever is around him, head phones in his ears, but always aware of his surroundings. To many he may seem abrasive, but I've never seen him hurt a fly and when he smiles it's big enough to light up a room. Although his deep, sultry voice and sentences that don't always make sense may deem him, "crazy" to many, there's a side of him I witnessed today that warmed my heart. A random pedestrian walked by and threw his cigarette into the garbage can- however, the cigarette was still lit. The homeless man stopped the pedestrian and said, "Sir, sir, your cigarette is still lit! Don't worry, you don't put your hand in there, it's dirty, I'll get it out for you." So, he did. He put his hand in the trash, took out the cigarette that was in fact still partially lit and stepped on it on the ground and threw it away- not asking for a dime. He then pulled out a half full coffee cup which I overheard the mom with the daughters say, "Oh, look, he got a free coffee". But, the homeless man wasn't pulling the coffee out to drink, he pulled it out to pour the contents out into the dirt nearby. I know to some this seems silly, but to your everyday garbage man, this is a random act of kindness. The homeless man went on his way, and as he walked on, then came the most adorable couple I've seen in a long time.
They weren't hard to miss, although they were short and little in stature, the way they looked hand in hand, side by side could take your breath away. A man and a woman no younger than 75, grey haired, with just the perfect amount of age lines- lines that spelled, "Happiness, joy, life and wisdom". They both smiled with pure contentment and I remember my entire heart filling up and thinking, "That's what I want to find one day." As they walked on, the husband pulled his wife in closer towards him and wrapped his arm around her waist and they continued on their merry way. I couldn't help but wonder if they noticed that every person who walked by them smiled as big as I did.
The last of my sightings all left me with just as many thoughts as the others. The woman running to catch her bus- I sat and wondered if she'd make it, and was happy to see she would thanks to a man asking the bus driver to wait for the woman who was a stranger to him. I loved knowing that the simple act of asking someone to wait may have just saved the bus woman from a hellish day. Then, there was the lady in the bagel shop window dressed to the nines as what many from the Northwest would call a, "stereotypical Southern Bell", she had a sun cap and dress on, hair curled with red lips to match her red lined dress and in her lap was a basket with none other than a kitten inside which of course made the table with the daughters squeal with cutness. It was at that moment I thought to myself, "Am I living in some kind of novel?"
At that point, I finally accepted that the distractions around me were preventing me from retaining anything I was reading in my book I loved so much. For many, distractions are annoyances, but for me they filled my hour lunch break with so much curiosity, so much thought, and even a fair bit of optimism that I could care less if it meant I had to go back and read the 20 pages I thought I had taken in, it was well worth every moment. With that said, I think I'll return back to that "Evil Coffee Empire" in my neighborhood again for a lunch break tomorrow.
