I was in line for coffee today when the guy behind the counter got everyone's attention without raising his voice. He didn't do anything dramatic. What he said wasn't even all that outlandish, either.
He was the owner. And he was also taking orders, pouring drinks, and making small talk with customers. Which works when the pace is slower, as it usually is. But today, the place was full. The line was longer, but he didn't seem to be acting any different than he would any other day.
Handing a cortado to the man in front of me, the shop owner asked where he was visiting from. Turns out, more than one wedding party was staying in the valley this weekend. It's a small town in Vermont—visitors are sure to find their way to this coffee place.
As the conversation continued, the owner mentioned that this wasn't the original location of the shop. They'd started in a more popular area before uprooting and relocating here.
"We chose a place with a slower pace and happier people" he said. "That's worth more than the million we left on the table to do it."
Damn.
That made me consider some of my own choices—it felt good realizing I prioritize substance like that, too.
Our Daily MAP Year Prompt
13/365
When you want many things but can only have one, which do you choose?
Why?
onward.
-dmac