"Hey, you look like you could live here."
I've been trying to ignore the table next to me, but only half-heartedly.
They're at a 6-top that seems to sprout new chairs—and people—by the minute. The latest addition to the squad is a woman in maybe her forties or fifties. She's got a ballcap on her head in one of those muted pastel colors and I'm betting there's an embroidered "Vermont est. 1791" or something similar, like you'd find at a gift shop. In fact, there's a decent chance she just bought it right here, at this place. So uh, I mean... not quite like someone who lives here... But there's also a pair of sunglasses sitting on the brim, so I can't be sure. Maybe I'm wrong. Besides, I'm trying to ignore that table anyway.
I'm somewhat used to being surrounded by tourists.
The matriarch's been complaining since they arrived. Everyone else placed their orders at the counter but she plopped down here, near me. And she's been talking with the only other girl at the table about how someone will have to go meet so-and-so since they're just getting in, and why should that be everyone else's problem, anyway?? The rest of the group planned accordingly; when will what's-her-face learn? She should know better by now, so says the matriarch.
They must be in town for a wedding.
Although, they said something about "last time"...
OH! Maybe they're visiting family who live around here?
Matriarch's got an accent to go with her scowl, and I'm betting New Jersey. I just can't tell whether she's an aunt, grandmother, cousin or none of the above.
"They have Vermont Flannel Company stuff upstairs!"
Ohmygodholyshit.
I'm about to shut my laptop and get my things together to leave, but I catch myself and take a deep breath. I've been watching John John Florence's new video and it's giving me the travel itch. He's one of the best surfers in the world but stopped competing so he could just sail around and go surfing. He and his wife have been living on the boat with their baby for just over a year at this point.
I shake my head and reach for my coffee.
I'm sitting in the corner of this cafe in Vermont, nestled right next to a flowing stream and a bunch of lush greenery, and I feel a little silly. I'm not sure if living on a sailboat and bopping around the world like that is my dream, but John John's living a version of it. Mine would need to have access to snowboarding and trailrunning. Heck, maybe van-life's been my calling this whole time. Or, at least, maybe it's time I build out the back of my truck into the camper-rig it was supposed to become when I bought it.
Either way, I'm having my normal coffee in a place people go out of their way to visit. I spare a glance at the matriarch and her merry band of tourists. She seems less grumpy despite how she's pawing at her phone with those deep red acrylic nails.
So I tell myself I hope they enjoy their wedding, or reunion, or whatever; and I turn back to my laptop and tap the space bar. The video's just shy of eight-minutes-long, but it captures a beautiful chapter of John John and fam's journey somewhere south of Cuba.
Taking another sip of coffee, I resume my daydreams of being... a tourist.
Ever catch yourself being a hypocrite? Sucks, right?
onward.
For more on this daily column and The MAP Year Project, read the backstory here. And if you know someone who'd appreciate this, pass it along.