When I arrived at O’Henry’s tonight, I expected to grab my usual gingerbread latte and sit anonymous at a table near the fireplace surround. I had work to do, articles to write, and the cozy coffee shop provides the perfect refuge from the distractions of home.
My actual experience wasn’t so different from my expectations, with one exception: I wasn’t so anonymous.
When I approached the counter, I was greeted with a smile of recognition from the middle aged man behind the counter. He commented that I looked different than usual with my hair pulled back, and I tried to conceal my surprise: have I really frequented this shop enough to be a familiar face?
It seems so. Though I must have made half a dozen stops by here since winter began, I was shocked when my counter conversation moved on to my recent departure from school.
In a city–even a state!–where I so often feel like a loner, it was a small blessing to be known, even slightly, in my favorite coffee shop.
 This wasn’t actually written tonight, but a while ago. I do that sometimes. Deal.