There’s not much different about today. I’m sitting at my usual Starbucks, watching the steady stream of people walk in for their morning fix: Americano, cafe late, white chocolate mocha, salted caramel mocha frapuccino, iced (or hot) tea. I see them chatting with the baristas and the manager. I take breaks, too, and talk about classes and books, and then turn back to my computer as the next group comes in.
But there’s a thick scent of sadness that tinges an otherwise beautiful, and crisp, Friday morning. Today’s their last day open.
The news, taped to the door about a month ago, came as a shock to most of us who’ve been faithful customers over the last decade. We shook our heads in disbelief, murmured how such a thing could be– this place was always full. In the mornings and afternoons, when you’d most likely find me here, the line many times passed the door. Their tables were almost alway occupied.
But still, we came. Because of the people that worked in this Starbucks. They are the reason this Starbucks rocked, why we’re sad its closing. I often think of the TV show Cheers, and the theme song plays in the back of my mind:
Making your way in the world today takes everything you’ve got.
Taking a break from all your worries, sure would help a lot.
Wouldn’t you like to get away?
Sometimes you want to go
Where everybody knows your name,
and they’re always glad you came.
You wanna be where you can see,
our troubles are all the same
You wanna be where everybody knows
Your name.
You wanna go where people know,
people are all the same,
You wanna go where everybody knows
your name.
This is my place. I’m going to miss it. I can get my coffee somewhere else, sure– that’s not what I’m going to miss. I’m going to miss Bo, Victoria, James, Ethan, and all the other friends I’ve made in this place. I’m going to miss talking about books and religion and life. I’m going to miss the smiles and jokes.
It’s the end of an era.
Alexandra Alessandri 