Every time I’m in the coffeehouse, I feel like each table is a home office… For example, on a given day at the coffeehouse that I frequent, there are at least 5 or 6 laptop users, typing away into Word. Many have library books stacked up on their table, and notebooks handy, each with their own unique scrawl.
Also, sometimes I spy the person who brings all their mail/correspondence/bills from the past month, and proceeds to open each one while sipping their latte. This sort of activity usually results in a huge trash pile. Amusing.
And, then there are those individuals who choose to make networking calls on their cell phone. I fail to see why such a person wouldn’t set his/her phone to vibrate. Or, failing that, reduce the volume to an inoffensive decibel level… but, they really must take this call.
I’m as guilty as the next guy/girl… Throughout college, I’d spend almost every night at a coffeehouse, where I studied, wrote term papers, opened bills, wrote cheques, placed cell phone calls and manufactured little piles of trash.
What do I do there now? I read. The papers, weeklies & monthlies, novels & non-fiction… you name it. So, it really is like a home office for me, too. The relative bargain of our rent, here in cambridge, doesn’t entitle me to an office of one’s own. Why not take it to the coffeehouse?