Coffee shop and bookstore

Every once in a while the question comes up – what do I want to do when I retire? It is not really a life-altering question (or a life-threatening one) but it does show up like an unwanted guest who drops in periodically. Sometimes the question is embedded in conversations with friends, at other times, it is a stray stand-alone thought. On most days I don’t know what I want to do while I am working, so the thought of planning for retirement is as far from reality as another galaxy.

Last weekend, I was at a place that brought me the answer to this long-standing question. It was a slow Saturday afternoon and we decided to visit the Future of Flight Museum in Everett, Washington, home to the company that makes mammoth aircrafts, Boeing. The viewing gallery held displays, informational videos and small aircraft. Across the runaway, we could see the world’s largest building by volume, the structure within which the Boeing 700 series planes are made. We didn’t make it in time for the Boeing tour which may have explained more so we spent some time in the museum store and left in search of a cup of coffee.

The tiny town of Mukilteo was down a quiet street named “Mukilteo Speedway” and we turned towards the water, looking for the famous lighthouse. A midget sized tower, ostensibly the lighthouse, provided relief with its red roof against the dark skies and chilly winds. We scanned the streets for Starbucks. We found Red Cup Café instead. A small coffee shop with a handmade sign and cheesy statues at the entrance was perched on the steep road. We stepped inside and were drowned in the essence of hot chocolate and coffee brewing in the kitchen. “Hot Sandwiches” announced the large blackboard with decorative borders and a daily menu hand-written with colored chalk. The walls bore cheerful watercolors by a local artist, featuring rhododendrons, the state flower, seascapes and still-life. The tables all had an ocean view through the large windows that overlooked an overflowing garden filled with spring blooms. The unfinished wood furniture, the wooden benches lining the windows with comfortably fluffed cushions created a homely atmosphere. A laminated newspaper clipping displayed an interview with the owner of Whidbey Coffee, a one-time aspiring lawyer who had tasted success with the coffee business.

We ordered coffees, hot chocolates and picked up chocolate biscotti for dipping. An older woman at the corner table was engrossed in her reading while occasionally sipping from her cup. A little girl ran around the garden, refusing to sit still long enough to let her father take a picture. The table in the center held several board games – Mastermind, Moods, Scattergories and old favorites like Scrabble and Pictionary. “Saturday is game night, feel free to play” said the waitress as she brought out our steaming cups. Wednesday evening was “Open Mike” night – anyone could show up to recite poetry, sing or perform a play. As I looked at the ceiling above the game table, I noticed another statue, of an upside down man almost falling out of the plaster with a coffee cup in his outstretched hand. Wow!

The store next door was a bookstore – not your usual chain store, but one that sold “better used books”. It was closed. It looked like a wonderful place to browse. The hour we spent in the coffee shop and its neighborhood seemed as if we had inhabited another time and place, an era of independent shops with character, a place where people were not in a rush to run to the next errand or experience, a life where you could decide the daily menu on a whim.

So this is what I can do when I retire, I thought. Recreate a gentler existence with things I love, with the skills I have – I can cook a little, read a lot, brew coffee and make small talk with my customers. What a wonderful life to look forward to!