Deep Java

Coffee shops are inspiring places. More anonymous than a office and friendlier than a library. Len Sweet calls the cafe environment "third places"-- the haunts we inhabit away from work and home. The environment is conducive for conversation and study and courage. Soldiers in the civil war said that by drinking coffee together they felt more courageous in battle. I guess the caffeine and camaraderie could do that for you, but then again I’ve never eyed-down an enemy musket at 50 yards. Coffee and conversation are interesting complements. If alcohol loosens ones inhibitions to act crazy in front of others, coffee is part of a mood that opens us up to significant depth in our sharing. Some of the deepest conversations I’ve ever had were over a cup of four dollar fuel.

I didn’t start drinking coffee until my second year of seminary in Dallas, Texas. A friend of mine named Tim—also a fellow-student and civil war buff from Atlanta—invited me to a local restaurant for evening brew. I discovered that he was more interested in the young waitress from Romania than he was the coffee. She was lovely, lifted seemingly from the lyrics of an Elton John song, the personification of the “tiny dancer” he immortalized. Our friend Dave would sit with us on occasion. As Irina walked by he would whisper, "Porcelain, a porcelain doll." She would pour our coffee and Tim would pour on the charm with his thick Georgia drawl. I guess that coffee gives one courage for more than just war.

While I don’t know if Tim would think so, he and I shared some soul stuff that went beyond the fluff and fill everyday conversations. I believe I learned what brotherhood feels like in that tattered restaurant booth. I haven’t spoken to Tim in a long while, and while I cannot remember the names of courses I took with him, I remember the laughter and pondering of those late night discussions, as well as the raven hair of the European beauty who served us as if we were kings. And why not? We spoke like impressive sages. I don’t believe that the fact Tim strategically placed his five dollar “tip money” on the table had anything to do with it. We were way to attractive for that to be true.