Working Amongst the Cafe Crowd

I am a remote worker, working for most of my days in a room at my house. My nearest office is 150 miles and a 3-hour drive away, my most accessible office is a 2 hour and £300 train ride away. The nearest colleague, someone in my team, is a 2-hour flight away. When organizations talk about the power of face-to-face connections I am with them, but it’s not very practical in my current situation.

This morning, I woke up with a feeling I’ve had before it’s a kind of dull low-level loneliness. I look into my office and the thought of spending all day there doesn’t fill me with joy. Today was a day to be amongst people – a cafe day.

I don’t just work on a cafe day, they are wonderful days for watching people. There are a set of individuals that inhabit most cafes, similar yet unique, character and caricatures.

The first people I notice are two men who, from their demeanor, I am assuming are retired. They are sat at two different tables, looking in opposite directions as if they were school children who have fallen out in the playground. They both have caps on and are carrying little bags which I’m assuming they use to carry the phones that they are doom-scrolling through. One of them looks up from their screen, looks out of the window and stops, they stay there for several minutes, watching the world go by only there isn’t much world outside this particular cafe. I want to introduce the two of them and suggest that they have a chat. I don’t think they are waiting for anyone, they’ve been here for quite a while. I look to my side and notice another man, similar age, same doom-scrolling. Are they happy in their isolation? Is this time a treasured distraction? What wisdom do they carry around not knowing its value? What is their history? What is their future?

To my right I notice a business meeting, four middle-aged men, four laptops. The conversation bounces between football and finances. One of them is using their laptop to describe the permutations for the end of the season, who’s going up and for them, sadly, who is going down. Another laptop is constructing a PowerPoint slide with way too many bullet-points. They are all wearing polo shirts and smart jeans, the standard attire of the video conferencing home-worker. I look down at myself knowing that I am wearing exactly the same combination.

In the far corner there are four dark-haired trim-bearded men, they are a bit younger and could all be family. Their attire is black corporate work-wear with dark-gray knee-pads, I think there’s a logo on one side the chest, but it’s too far away to make out. The work-wear is clean and unscathed so it’s either new, or the work isn’t too demanding on the fabric. One of them is holding court as the others listen with varying levels of concentration. They were a little further away so I couldn’t tell you what they were talking about but I even if I’d been closer I doubt that I would have understood.

I’m not the only one clattering away at a laptop keyboard. There’s a younger lady to my right who looks like she has deliberately chosen a table that’s the closest thing to quiet in this establishment. She’s wearing the female equivalent of smart jeans and a polo shirt. Periodically she stops to read what she’s written then returns to her finger dance, her long nails clacking with each letter. She was here before me and doesn’t look like she’s leaving any time soon. I suspect that this is corporate work for her also, but perhaps she’s a world renowned hacker, or TikTok influencer? I wonder if she’s simply doing what I am doing and seeking a different outlook for a change.

Two older couples have arrived at the table next to me. One of the women is telling the others, in a voice that the whole cafe is forced to contend with, that she’s going on a cruise and has recently ordered over 20 dresses from John Lewis. Her afternoon job was to try them all on and return the ones she doesn’t like. “I’ve spent nearly £2,000 on my credit card so far. The great thing about John Lewis, though, is that you can return it to Waitrose, and it’s so easy to do.” I now know all about the way that returns are processed at John Lewis and about how quickly it works. “I’m so glad I didn’t get them from M&S, have you seen all of the problems they’ve had recently.” The other lady doesn’t look like someone who has ever shopped at John Lewis. I look at her husband and suspect that he’s never shopped at John Lewis either even though he’s in things you’d find in John Lewis, head-to-toe.

Two ladies come in, one after the other. They meet with a cheek-kiss and a genuine smile. They too have laptops, they are also going to do some work, but it looks so much more social than the other groups. They look excited about the work they are managing to get done, there’s a twinkle of creativity on their faces.

I return to my keyboard and the conundrum before me.

Thankfully Mrs. Cruise Dresses needs to dash off to do something vital and leaves the other three to a more gentle chat. Mr. Football Tables has moved on to more serious matters. Mrs. Long Nails is quietly reading. Thankfully, today, no-one is on a speaker phone. Mr. and Mr. Doom-scroller are still there, isolated by an impenetrable few meters.

There’s something about the clatter of a busy place that helps me see things differently. Sometimes the answer isn’t found in quiet contemplation, but in the subconscious thought of a noisy place.

Header Image: The wild garlic in the local woods is almost at full bloom and is competing with the bluebells to be the dominant fragrance.