I arrived at Gimme! Coffee earlier than the rest of the group that Saturday. I had just gone to the Ithaca Friends of the Library Book Sale [A success; I bought all of the Haruki Murakami books on the shelves], and I sat alone in the coffee shop for a good 15-20 minutes waiting for everyone to arrive by bus.
The moments before they arrived:
- I sat by the window and read my book, a rare and peaceful instant; time was calm, faded.
- Well, now that I remember: I walked in and I saw someone who went to my high school working at the counter. This was not too surprising; I went to high school 45 minutes away from here.
- The little girl next to me asked the man on the other side of me how he was doing, to which he replied, “Alright.” They had a nice conversation which I half listened to. [I tried not to eavesdrop but it was quite hard not to seeing as I was sitting right in between them.]
When everyone finally walked into the coffee shop, we all sat at a long table and wrote down our coffee orders. I ordered a small latte, perfect for a rainy day. We made small talk, but I hate small talk, so I mainly listened to everyone else’s stories and blurbs about themselves.
Hello Sophia,
I was at the coffee chats so I am just interested in why you felt as though the conversations we had were small talk. I don’t mean it in a questioning way but I am genuinely curious. After all, perhaps it is due to my major (AEM), but I feel like I am vastly exposed to small talk all throughout my career here at Cornell.
To me, I didn’t feel like sharing personal stories about coffee, or discussing the motivations about popular authors small talk. But perhaps I am swayed in my definition of what is small talk because I am too often surrounded by conversations that only involve majors, career aspirations, and the parties that people plan on attending that night.