Sunday Morning Observations at goods Cafe
While sitting at goods Cafe, off of Tinakori Road in Wellington, I notice an older couple sitting along the sidewall. At first, I don't know what draws my attention to them.
They sit at the smallest table in the cafe with two high stools. A silver antique loving cup, with two holds on each side big enough to put your index and middle finger through, sits on the table. Inside are white packets of organic sugar. A one-page minimalist menu with seven options rests against the cup.
The couple don’t seem to be in a rush. They might be retired. The woman sits leaning against the wall while the man sits up straight. He looks fit. His tanned face reveals time spent outdoors.
This might be a Sunday morning routine for them. To get out of the house for freshly baked pastries and coffee. They occasionally glance at each other and make a small comment. I may be looking over too much as the man and I have made eye contact one too many times now.
They look like they’ve been happily married for a long time. They don’t talk, but they don’t need to. They sit in silence, but not out of boredom. They don’t have their phones out. I notice a small grin across both their faces. They seem to be taking in the cafe atmosphere.
The numerous conversations happening at once combine to form a white noise. Impossible to make out a single conversation, but consistent enough to fade into the background. It’s soon interrupted by a toddler crying out at the table next to me. He’s dropped his mug of hot chocolate. He’s adorable. No one seems to care. The mother handles it well. He’s soon happily sipping another hot chocolate.
A thought briefly pops into my mind. What if the toddler realizes that if he drops the hot chocolate he’ll get more hot chocolate overall? The broken mug and spilled liquid all over the floor will probably prevent him from learning this behavior, but what if the cup was made out of plastic or rubber? An unlikely behavior, but how sneaky would that be?
I look back at the couple who are now joined by two cups of coffee. They split a croissant. I then realize why I first noticed them.
How they share this experience together and the look of content on their faces is a stark contrast to the older couple I saw a week before.
At Aro Cafe, I sat along the back wall. The back wall had five small tables with booth style seating on one side and a chair on the other. They both sat down with newspapers in hand. They also didn’t talk much. It felt different though. It was as if they ran out of conversation topics long ago.
They never glanced up at each other. The arrival of their food and coffee seemed like a formality. The ring finger proved to be the only sign of marriage I observed.
At one point, I went up to use the bathroom. When I came back, the woman was up by the cash register. I had to squeeze between our tables to get back to my seat. I wondered if the man would notice if I sat down at his table. I don’t think it mattered who sat across from him.