Being a great writer is like being a great athlete.
You have to train for it—
not just check a box and call it done.
And a coffee shop must be the gym for people like us.
Or maybe a library—though those can feel like information overload.
But the right casual coffee shop, with the right casual vibe will do wonders to your soul.
Especially the slow, quaint, quite types with a gentle ocean breeze, tucked in a charming neighborhood playing slow oldies.
I like to sit in the shade with my back against the building. The sun splashing my arm with an occasional beam of light.
I admire hearing muffled laughter inside while dominios are being shuffled, the old screen door opening and closing, cars mindfully passing by, and of course, occasional crows in the distance, and some funny looking “turkeys” crossing the road.
I would never disclose this hidden gem because it’s like giving your heart away, in a world that just takes more and more of it. It’s hard to not hold on tightly to the things that matter. We care for these things like our lives depend on it.
Just my dog and I,
and a hazelnut latte—
like the old days in North Carolina.
In the short time I’ve been here,
I’ve been met with a calm, peaceful energy—
the kind where even my dog doesn’t bark at the mailman,
despite all his conflicting smells.
Everyone here is at peace.
The women inside smile—
not out of obligation,
but because they want to.
The barista takes care in making my drink just right,
offering something new —
cold foam on a hot hazelnut latte,
just to cool it perfectly.
Two women on the couch pause their conversation when I sit nearby.
They notice my dog,
and suddenly another small, friendly one appears from under the table.
The dogs sniff and greet each other.
We share that easy dog-owner banter.
I mention mine will be ten in April—
then realize… we ARE in April.
We both pause.
Time moves so fast.
But it also makes you appreciate the slowness of moments like this.
When my drink is ready,
the barista asks me to try it—
offering to remake it if I don’t love it.
I squeeze past an older woman asking for water.
As I stand there tasting my drink,
she asks if she’s in the way.
Of course not, I said — I just wanted to thank the barista.
I tell her how perfect the suggestion was,
smile, and head back outside. It blew my mind.
I sit. Exhale.
This small little portal
puts so much love back into my heart.
And it doesn’t stop there.
I sit on the patio next to a man.
We chat easily.
Otto brings smiles wherever he goes,
and whenever the energy feels like this, it fills me with more joy.
The man compliments how well-behaved he is.
Later, the women from inside pass by,
heading to their cars,
wishing me a good day.
Another older man approaches—
offers my dog a treat.
He says he meant to give it to his sister’s dog earlier,
but forgot.
Part of me thinks…
he probably just keeps treats in his pocket.
Something I would do.
Dogs make people happy.
They make me happy too.
And so does this place—
and this kind of energy I’ve been missing.
LA feels so…
focused on the wrong things.
The internal and external noise, the constant hustle and bustle, go-go-go culture—
things that just don’t fill your soul.
But a smile from a stranger—
a brief conversation—
that’s connection.
That’s community. Fill my cup with that over and over and over please….
Sometimes I wonder if LA is just too big for that.
And I wish I could change it.
But maybe these outskirts,
on a quiet weekday morning,
can be my little escape.
Maybe I’ll become that girl
who drives 45 minutes out –
and an hour fifteen back in traffic,
just to find a little bit of peace.
I could sit here all day.
maybe it’s time for a second cup of coffee—
black this time, but decaf.
The wild caffeine days are over.
Scandalous Lifestyle, Revised 