Saturday, June 7, 2008
My local cafe, this is. It's a place where I don't need to order; I just sit down and know that a coffee will turn up. The staff nod and say hello, and don't feel the need to go through the formal welcome-behaviours they do with non-regulars. It's comfortable.
When I first had the nerve damage, and was going stir-crazy sitting at home and staring at the walls, this was the place I would come to, just to sit, and read, and be somewhere else for a while. It'd take me almost half an hour to do a walk that used to take less than ten, but I wouldn't care. The cafe may have saved my sanity, contingent though it is.
It seems to be a part of inner city life that cafes are an extension of home. It's a space people feel comfortable in, and natural. You can often spot the non-locals simply because they don't seem to be entirely at ease. I keep meaning to shoot a series around the concept of cafes as 'home' spaces; I really should get off my proverbial and do it!