The Coffee Shop Imposter
And being forced to ~*LiVe iN tHe mOMeNt*~
I am not a coffee drinker.
I famously have the palette of a 9-year-old so this should not come as a shock. And I don’t think my lack-of-coffee-dependency horse is that high (I save the highest of horses for when I declare I haven’t had soda since 2004). However, at the risk of getting left out of a societal norm, I am a frequenter of “getting a moderate amount of work done at a coffee shop” (™).
Imposter Syndrome is a familiar concept for any millennial who a) chose a creative career path and b) transplanted to Los Angeles to live among trillions with the same goals. But heck, let me TELL YOU, it’s so dang refreshing to give that version of imposter syndrome a vacation for a moment in lieu of a different self-manufactured target: the “am I allowed to be here?” feeling of the cute lil coffee establishment when I have no intention of ordering a coffee.
The TikTok algorithm to which I’m addicted loves to show me little coffee establishments that I just have to check out, again, with no intention to even sample their main output! The white noise of everyone on a computer busy writing award-winning content, the chairs that will probably leave my back stiff, the speakers that overpower my own music in my ears1 — chef’s/barista’s kiss! The buy in to blend in at a coffee shop is low (maybe order something as to not be rude; maybe bring a device with a screen) and I can sit back and absorb a culture I maybe don’t deserve to be a part of. All is well…
…Except this time is different. This working day specifically, I forget my AirPods (not sponsored). But I’m already here and I can’t hide behind the little white nubs. It’s the saddest thing (except for the half-second of despair when you pass roadkill and also the ending of the film adaptation of Marley & Me). I am being absolutely forced to (gulp) live in the present? Normally, once I find a seat and hunker down into my computer screen, I can release the pressure of having to “know what an Americano is” but today, God gives his biggest battles…
I take forty-to-sixty deep breaths, make sure I’m not on a hidden camera show (wait, bring those back), then minute by minute I find myself being more attentive to my surroundings. Instead of racing through a podcast at 2x speed strictly to clear my queue (let’s just unsubscribe to that one), I notice the women playing chess across the way. Chic! I notice the car in the parking lot whose horn is stuck in “honkin’ mode”. No thanks! I notice the guy across the outdoor space who may have recently been on Survivor? Idk don’t have the brain space to keep a photographic memory of 18 castaways twice per year that I had as a kid. And before I know it, I’m not even attentive to the “work” on my computer screen; I love it here!
I take in eavesdropped conversations about friends who are so glad they could make this happen. Another pair discusses of a kitchen renovation plan (if there was anywhere I’d love to eavesdrop more). And a couple holds a kiss waaaay too long for public comfort. Disgusting; I’m just a child. A nearby dog approaches me as if to say, “hello why is no one petting me or feeding me?” I see pet owners who don’t look like they want their dogs to be attention grabbers but bring their dogs to a crowded coffee shop anyway. I see so many hip people w/ tattoos. I shift my focus before I wonder too deeply if these beautiful people are all my age cohorts or if they’re 26 to my 35.
Lest I be off the grid for 9 minutes while I just type to myself, I put my Brave Boy Pants on to ask my neighbor for the wifi password. I want to huff and puff this information is not clearly posted, but my aversion to a coffee-forward menu means I haven’t even broached the idea of going up to order something yet. Maybe it’s in big bold letters just out of my view.
It can be a lot of pressure to wear the crown of being their one customer of the day that orders a juice or something fruity (see also: my relationship with cocktails but that’s an essay for a different day). Maybe they’ll fawn over me as I issue the challenge of nailing a sugary berry concoction? Maybe they have something akin to a Starbucks strawberry açaí Refresher (a Grande serving of sugar and a pinch of caffeine)! Must be red slash pink! Let me think about this and go back and forth on the idea for the amount of time my computer battery will last…
And as I process all of this, and crane my face up to the sun in this effortlessly Californian outdoor space, I realize I’ve passively typed more work than I’ve gotten done all week. Is there actually something to taking in one’s surroundings as opposed to going to seek out this spot then blocking it out once I’m there?
Once I realize it’s 90 degrees in autumn and I’m sweaty and my computer feels overheated and things are going downhill fast and I already took a shower today and one (1) is the limit and all of the sudden the space feels empty, I Google to find out this place closes in six minutes. On my way out, I get a chocolate croissant because my drug of choice is not caffeine but sugar. That car horn finally stopped so I deserve a treat.
You’d think it’d all be easier if I just… knew how to order a coffee. 10/10 will be back.
Hear me out: a podcast that may contain out of date information, is not about a murder, and is not hosted by any recognizable personalities (rude but true)— “Ryan I’m too busy,” you say!!!!
In 2018, the limited series podcast It’s Britney Bitch launched (twenty years after we all collectively discovered Britney Spears for the first time). Over the course of twenty episodes, one highlighting a different year, the two hosts get into meticulous album reviews, press cycle highlights, tours, and every little thing that little Miss Britney Jean Spears did. If you’re able to suspend your disbelief knowing what we know now (#FreeBritney), this series has the ability to poke fun at their favorite pop star, while also defending things that the general public may have gotten wrong (and explaining why Toxic is not her best song by long shot).
There are a few episodes beyond the original set, including a recent review of Britney’s book The Woman In Me, but otherwise, take a giggling journey back to 1998.
I spent the day at a different coffee shop the first day Olivia Rodrigo’s GUTS was released so I may have listened to it 5 times through in one sitting but I am not off-book for this reason.
You might want to consider wearing a coffee stained shirt on your next sojourn. It could buy you some time. Or you could order a pumpkin spice thingy and "accidentally" spill it.