At the time I’m writing this, I’m working in a tea shop a few blocks from campus. That I’m writing in public while drinking tea seems to lend itself to the idea that I’m pretty hip, some might even say “cool.” They wouldn’t be right, but I’d be flattered they had said that. In reality, I’m definitely the least cool person at this particular tea shop. It should also be noted that this tea shop isn’t even my go-to one, which is way cozier but not open today, and that information should not factor into the overall evaluation of my social ineptitude.
I think looking at other people provides a good opportunity for some self-examination. And that’s what I’m doing. It’s proving to be a real downer.
The barista here has cooler hair than me. Mine isn’t cool, nor did I make any effort for it to be cool, but the apparent coolness of hers highlights the fantastic uncoolness of mine. Kind of like when you invite someone over to your house and suddenly realize you haven’t scraped the tear-stains from your desk, and your guest can clearly see the sodden outline where you usually lay with your cheek to the comfortable, impassive wood. She’s got that thing going on where her hair is two colors, and while part of mine is also white, it was not a deliberate decision for that to happen.
There’s a woman sitting in one of the little window nooks, and her posture is more relaxed and comfortable than I’ve ever been outside my bathroom. I can’t imagine being able to lounge in public, being comfortable just letting my body go slack and not caring about who sees. I’ve been sucking in my gut since 2004.
There’s someone who looks like another student. They’re on a laptop and sitting at the counter, and they’re actually doing work. I’ve been covertly staring at their computer screen for a few minutes, and they’re clearly working on some intimidating spreadsheet thing, and in all the time I’ve been clandestinely observing this person, they have not once looked up from their work. They took a sip of their tea without even looking at it. I’ve broken two keyboards with that kind of behavior, but they’re just rocking it. How can I measure up to someone who can treat tea as secondary to work when I’m over here staring at someone else’s screen and writing weird shit on my own instead of doing anything productive.
A dog just walked in. It’s attached to someone by a leash, but a person has never mattered less than when they are holding a dog. This dog is wearing a little black vest that says “service animal” on it, and how amazing is it that this dog has got its career all figured out already. It can’t be older than 4, and it already has a great job, stable housing, and visits really hip tea shops. I’m in that stage of post-school panic where I’m applying for jobs, and how can I compare my totally uncertain future with that of a dog who has everything in life figured out before he even turns 5.
I know from the outside I might appear like I belong in this hip tea shop. I’ve got a sparkly coat and some trendy pins, but my coolness ends at the superficial level. I wear cool like an egg wears its shell, a temporary cover hiding something frail and goopy.
Well, superficial cool is just fine. I mean, you are sitting in a tea shop, aren’t you? Those other people are in a tea shop as well. It’s just all out there, on show. Why not work on the computer at home with a cup of cheaper tea? Why sit there and drink tea looking at people when you can make tea at home, put it in a thermal cup, and sit on a bench looking at people? We might all have to change our names to Con Spicuous.
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I would work at home more, but the tea tends to be better at shops, and I also couldn’t make it all the way home during my break between teaching, but I definitely have a thermal cup that has traveled with me so much it’s practical shrapnel from getting banged around
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I really enjoy your writing and think you are cool. I confess to moments of self-obliteration in comparing myself to others too. But, at least finish your tea first, LOL. Great post!
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I like your pen name. Or is it “handle”? Or screen name? Or alter-ego? That’s how unhip I am. I don’t even know what the name someone uses on his or her blog is called.
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Oops. That comment was meant for Lady Leena Fandango, as im sure you can see why. That said, “noneuclideansofa” is quite catchy.
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Ha! Well theirs is definitely cooler than mine. Less of a mouthful
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Pen name or handle probably works, although I don’t know if I’m different enough here to merit it being an alter ego. Maybe if I were nicer…
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Hi there Fandango, I like your name too! I would say in my case, probably alter ego. I’m an avatar in a virtual world called Second Life and that’s who I am in there, LOL.
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Thank you! Self-obliteration is probably the most interesting way of phrasing that destructive habit we’ve got of too closely comparing ourselves to how we see other people
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You’re welcome and thank you for commenting back. It’s a tough habit to break when we compare ourselves to others but human nature can’t be helped. Cheers 🙂
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Loved it!
I had no idea tea shops were cool.
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Oh no, maybe they’re not cool and I’ve revealed just how far removed I am from coolness by thinking they’re actually cool!
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I live in Denmark and we don’t have them. I think it’s cool if they’re in 😊
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They’re quite nice, kind of like visiting a cool friend’s apartment and listening to music and drinking their tea. I hope you get a chance to visit one sometime 😀
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I used to love sitting in tea shops and still do. Admittedly it would be cheaper sitting at home. Regardless, revel in people watching, pretending to work, watch the world pass by and wave back at it.
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Ah, the Catch 22 of Cool. By denying your coolness you elevate it. Unless you realize this, and then cool is relegated to the back seat again. So you can clearly not choose the mug in front of you.
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Hmm.. but what if I’ve actually spent the last few years building up an immunity to coolness
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I’ve always thought of myself as in-cool. But lately I’ve talked to friends who’ve always assumed my coolness. I guess I come off as comfortable in my own skin and non-self conscious. I guess that’s what cool is. Frankly, at my age I’m so done with cool. I’d rather be perceived as confident and expert in my subject, which is writing.
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Ah maybe that’s my problem. I’m about as uncomfortable as a person can possibly be. I do think it would be nice for people to think I’m an expert writer though.
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