Three ladies sat outside Peet’s Coffee in Santa Monica. There were many little tables outside the coffee-shop: one was inhabited by a trendy man in his early twenties, wearing a brown hat and reading a design book; one other table was occupied by a balding man with glasses perched precariously on his nose who was proofreading a paper as he sipped his coffee and occasionally looked up at the people going by; the third table was surrounded by three ladies.
The three ladies were of varying ages. Two were in their early fifties and looked like sisters – both had similar features and they had that sort of friendly and easy manner with each other that comes from a good sisterly relationship. The third was obviously a family member as well – the daughter of the one and the niece of the other. These ladies were surrounded by lots of baggage – a purse, a backpack, four pounds of Peet’s coffee blends, another shoulder bag, and, of course, three large cups of coffee, a cinnamon roll and a small box of chocolates.
The conversation between the ladies was fast and carefree: gossip about family members and family events, chit-chat about the merits of good coffee, small talk about travel plans. Somehow, in all the chatter, the subject of ostrich meat, an option that had been on a menu of a restaurant where the ladies had been the night before, came up. There was some discussion over the general aversion to the very idea of ostrich meat, and then with a casual remark from one of the ladies about how it tasted like roast beef, the table exploded. The ladies all burst out laughing as one of them spit out her coffee, overcome with laughter, and the other two followed suit while trying to control themselves and the flow of coffee spilling over their baggage.
Eventually, the three got themselves under control, though still giggling, and got up to leave. As they were walking down the sidewalk, the young hip man called out with a smile that he enjoyed their laughter and liked to see that they were having fun. He wasn’t mocking – he was sincere. He had enjoyed the sight of three ladies laughing at a table in the Los Angeles sunlight. Only the young lady had noticed that the other man, the quiet one with the glasses, had smiled to himself as well as the three had been laughing hysterically.
The youngest lady walked away from the whole encounter feeling that the world was a good place if people could enjoy the enjoyment of others.
7 thoughts on “Three Ladies at Peet’s”
I’m stuck in the army, bored to tears, and this has completely brighten up my mood. Well, not completely, but a little bit, and definitely, the world is a good place as long as I can enjoy the enjoyment of others!
you’re a very good observor 🙂
i think it’s nice when you see these in day-to-day life
i’m still envious of your travels
This really made my morning too. There is absolutely NOTHING like a good laugh amongst your girlfriends.
Ha ha. That is funny. I want to be in your suitcase!
I always enjoy seeing folks have a good time. Laughter is great medicine.
Could you smell the ocean in the air? How lucky to be able to just observe people on a beautiful day like this!
This was very well written. I actually had trouble telling if it was story or real life observation. Laughter is indeed the best medicine, and I was quite entertained. Thanks for posting!
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