I have been really struggling lately. I think it’s because I went from a vibrant and busy school where I felt a part of a community with a great staff and super kids to being alone every day with only my computer and my research to keep my company (although the new puppy helps).
A good friend of mine suggested I get out and go to a Starbucks to work; he said it has the perfect amount of busy to help you feel like you aren’t alone, but also some of the sounds would fade into the background and he finds it helps him to be more productive.
I thought today would be the perfect day to try that, but without having had lunch, I sought out a lunch place where that same philosophy would apply. I went to our Main Street; a short walk to the Library where I could go pick up the latest Book Club book and automatically went toward one of my favourite little spots. But I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw the sign outside the window:
(not the actual sign but a similar one I found here)
I am not going to lie. This really rubbed me the wrong way. I am the first person to advocate for no devices at the dinner table and believe in the importance of in person conversation.
I can see why a small business might not be able to afford wifi or just makes a personal choice not to have it. In this case, simple, Sorry, No Wifi would suffice. But this sign is so condescending and out of line? Not only because I was just looking for a place to work, but how about for the person who doesn’t have a partner who might want to connect with a friend or relative online? Do I think wifi is a necessity at restaurants? Perhaps not. But I feel like this, “Life was better in 1993” reference makes so many assumptions. Or maybe I just can’t take a joke.
The good news is, I kept walking past this restaurant and stumbled upon a local Soup and sandwich shop which I had never seen before, called Soup-a. The man behind the counter (presumably the owner) not only gave me a Wifi password, but offered me samples of homemade soup, and greeted every customer with a warmth that made the whole place feel like home. I had lunch and then a coffee and was able to work for a good couple of hours. In this time, Naz greeted everyone by name and made you feel welcome. When a young woman with Downs Syndrome came in (what I assume was a co-op student), he joked with her to get her apron on and make soup. Her laughter was contagious and you could tell that he treated her with the same joviality with which he treated his customers.
I couldn’t help notice the sign above the cutlery: Kindness is free and makes a difference.
