A monk, a priest, and a graphic designer
walk into a coffee bar…
So, there’s this coffee shop I go to on Sunday mornings after I drop my wife off at church for choir practice: Grinder’s. I come here to catch up on business billings and any last-minute jobs, as well as get my list for Monday worked out in my head. Unfortunately, I’ve really begun to enjoy watching the people here, as much as the coffee. I’m not getting much done.
Last week, I sat across from a guy who I can only hope was a monk - shaved head, long burgundy robe with a gold sash. Either he was a monk or he was a ninja, but I think ninjas probably have enough self-control to not need an espresso in the morning. Monks, apparently, not so much.
Today it was the usual assortment of healthy-types, out for their morning speed walk before it gets too hot, a handful of kids studying, and a priest. Funny thing is, the priest is a good friend of mine and on the staff at my church. He was putting the finishing touches on the sermon he was about to give a half-hour later.
There’s something about standing and having coffee with someone dressed in the collar, just shooting the breeze. I have no idea how they feel - there’s certainly no way to blend in. I feel a little conspicuous sitting with him, although not uncomfortable. Although they shouldn’t, my thoughts immediately go to the other people in the shop, what do they think? Is he here for counseling? Is he a prospective convert? Did he do something wrong? Are they suddenly going to burst into hymns? Although I’m sure nobody could have cared less, my imagination tends to run wild.
I choose a table across the way from my friend, trying to give him a chance to finish up what he’s working on, but he packs up and comes over and sits with me. We start talking about church web sites and printed materials that he would like to work on for his new church, how much does that cost?
I chuckle - I guess Sunday is a work day for him, too.
