Friday Morning's

Friday mornings from 7 to 8:30 I spend across the street from Harbor UCLA at Starbucks. For those of you who do not know what Harbor is, it is one of UCLA’s training hospitals, located in Torrance, California. I am working there this year as part of my training for my doctorate in clinical Psychology. The hospital serves primarily a very low income population. I have begun to really enjoy my early mornings at the Starbucks across the street, the people watching tends to be fascinating.

As you can imagine, Starbucks is a bustling place Friday mornings. I think every doctor, surgeon, and nurse might actually walk through the doors or drive through the drive through to pick up their morning “fix”. The parking lot is full of cars, BMW’s, Mercedes, Lexus, etc. Nice, run of the mill expensive cars.

Inside the ‘Bucks are primarily students, residents, interns, with big textbooks, laptops, highlighters poised, and ready for the next amazing sentence read. Stress runs high, nobody talks, sometimes a smile and an odd hello. We are all familiar with each other, but don’t know each other at all.

Outside, it’s a different tone. I watch the people outside and have to admit I think I am a bit jealous.

Outside there is a man, he is always there, probably mid-50’s, maybe homeless, maybe not. He sits near the front door. Often says hello. Generally comments on people’s outfits, and lets you know when he finds your attire to be well put together. Not in the gross checking you out kind of way. More just a kind, honest, “you look nice today”.

Then there is a woman, probably early 30’s. African American woman, she is here most mornings. She reminds me of young child most of the time, every morning she approaches someone, and in this very innocent, childlike way asks some groggy pre-caffinated individual if they will buy her a cup of coffee. This morning, it was almost my turn, but she caught the woman before me. I’ve watched this exchange now for several months, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody turn her down. This is how it unfolds:

The response, no matter who it is generally the same,
Individual: “Ummm, what? Yeah, I guess”

The woman follows them into Starbucks.
Manager: “Ma’am, you need to go outside, unless you are going to buy something. Stop bothering customers”.

The person gets to the front of the line, they make their order, on the end of their order,
Individual: “Oh, and a tall cup of coffee”
Starbucks employee: “which drip did you want?”
Individual: “whatever, it doesn’t matter”

The individual pays, drops the coffee off at the lady’s table outside, with the locals. The individual usually says nothing. The lady smiles, like a kid smiles when you give them a sucker. The lady sits, content, and drinks her coffee, like a kid enjoys a sucker. She enjoys every sip, gets to the bottom of her coffee, looks inside to make sure it is all gone, and then sits, happy. Obviously, very happy.

Over the course of my hour here, I watch the people come and go inside and outside. Outside they all know each other’s names. They say hello. They chat, they laugh, and they often talk about treatment. Their recent ailments, sometimes it is about a doctor, sometimes it is about their recovery from various addictions, or diseases. No matter the topic it is real. The talk openly, they talk honestly. They talk about their pain and their suffering, they listen to each other, they give advice, they laugh, a lot, and sometimes even cry.

I watch them out there, through the walls of windows, and think about my own life, think about my world inside, compared to their world outside. I’m surrounded people that are like me, learning to use big words in sentences, learning to be professional, all on the perceived road to success, “doctors”. I wonder about that word “doctor” what does it really mean?

I long for the outside, but I enjoy the luxury and safety of the inside. I want both. Can I have it all? The last several years, I have had to sacrifice a lot, much of that sacrifice has been of my friends, my community. I talked to a good friend last night. I miss that. I miss her, I miss people like her, I miss my “outside”. I think it’s time to go back “outside”.