My Generous Gift to the Future
Zoka’s Coffeehouse is another nearby gathering place for young adults. My amateur anthropological hypothesis is that they meet at Zoka’s while pretending to study or compose term papers on their laptops during the day, migrate to the Luau in the evening, and by midnight the previously sober and earnest students can be found wandering the sidewalks in search of their cars. I suppose I’d have to tag them with little transmitters to actually prove this. Plus the sacrifice of having to spend evenings at the Luau.
Although they have great pastries, good coffee and free wifi at Zoka’s, I don’t go in there much to sit and surf. It’s always fairly crowded with the aforementioned kids of courting age, and I fear that if I took up one of the seats, someone of breeding age would not get the seat, not get to meet the attractive young woman that I would no doubt have nonchalantly sat down next to, and consequently would not tell her lies about his nearly-finished novel, not herd her across the street to the Luau, not get her drunk on rum-and-grenadine concoctions garnished with umbrellas and little plastic mermaids, not wander the neighborhood in vain search of their cars, not have desperate and unprotected sex under one of my neighbors’ hydrangea bushes and not, nine months later, give birth to the marvelous child who would grow up to run for president in 2040 and finally rid us of decades of ruinous Republican rule.
No, I’ll just get that double macchiato to go, thanks.