Lifestyle
Coffee, sex, and weirdos
I had a dream that I was opening up a coffee store in the morning. There were a lot of customers already inside the cafe, which had very white walls, two floors, and plenty of light. They were all waiting (very patiently) for me to open the bar. One of the women noted that I work alone and dictated a large order of six drinks for her and her friends. I still remember one of those was a Mocchiato.
This dream doesn’t surprise me. While for many people college highlighted an exotic time in their lives, for me it was working at Starbucks in New Jersey in my 20s.
I was back in the US after finishing serving in the Israeli army with a fresh Green Card. I was living at home, and my mom was a dedicated coffee drinker who fell in love with Starbucks, and we had a neighborhood store within walking distance from us. She was a regular and she knew how to push things, and the manager was one of those folks with a natural warm smile on his face. That and the fact that Starbucks provided health insurance for part-timers meant it didn’t take much time for me to start working there.
Back then, Starbucks was still that “third place,” especially in those neighborhood stores. We had our regulars, especially during closing shifts, which were calmer. It was also when I worked with the more interesting people I remember, and, to be frank, attractive ones. I developed a series of mini-crushes toward some of our shift supervisors, especially the ones that turned out to be weird, as if by a magnet. There was a tall beatiful one who had a natural punk-goth look who ended up being a mortician (she went to a school and everything). There was another that actually had a side gig working as a model for a beer company, doing a couple of commercials in a magazine.
My favorite was a scrawny, quiet, skinny girl who was prone to what I know today were panic attacks. She always took the closing shift, and always worked with her best friend, who was also the first transwoman I’ve met. As I learned after a couple of weeks working with them, she was also her roommate. That skinny weird girl, whom I’m going to call Alice here, was what you can maybe call my first “girlfriend.” I’ve dated girls before, but it was because I was supposed to and because I was worried I’m going to die a virgin, as many guys do once they reach their 20s without having sex. Alice and I clicked and became friends first, and somehow I got accepted into her weird anxious lifestyle, enough for her to trust me to touch her one evening, offering a massage.
You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, but I really didn’t think about having sex with her at the time. We worked a hard shift together, she was in a bad mood, and her body was aching all over. She had several surgeries, and there was a part of her skeleton that was metal (I forget which). Since she was kind to me all that time, I just offered it once she got a chance to sit in the back, sighing in agony and straightening her neck. I don’t think she thought much about it back then either; she just accepted the offer while her tall roommate/friend and apparently guardian was watching us (OK - me) suspiciously, occupying the bar in case someone came in.
Things came naturally after that, and we became affectionate. She had me follow her home after one of our shifts, and I’m going to end the story here in case your kids are watching over your shoulder, but you can keep your imaginations going.
The point I think I’m trying to make here is that she was the first person I remember mutually clicking with mentally and later physically1. In my 40s, I can nod and say “of course,” having only been able to maintain relationships with alternative folks from different walks of life (and failing measurably at whatever normal bf/gf relationships dared sneaking into my world). The bond between these “alternative” folks, as I call them here, sex, and coffeeshops (and books, but that’s a different story) is something that still exists strongly to this day, even though I’m sure I’m far from being the only person who is attracted to their barista.
For a long time, my ideal workplace has been working in a coffee shop behind the bar, even owning one. I had the idea of opening a place called “Insomnia Cafe”, where I and like-minded folks (the “alternatives”) would operate a coffee shop from dusk till dawn, minus the death and the crosses (vampires welcome, of course). A place that will always allow people to work on their laptops, which was one of my favorite things to do. I went as far as thinking of offering “membership” and even a crashpad - a place for people to crash and sleep for a few hours if they need to - and talked to my sister about it. I don’t know that I’m still up for those late-night/early-morning shifts, but the idea of having a cafe like that is still something that comes up now and then.
Well.
It’s time for me to take my empty coffee mug to the kitchen and chisel away at some work projects. But before I go, I want to say that if you’re one of these people I mentioned and you want to get in touch, please do. I’d love to hear from you. Some folks reached out by email after I wrote similar posts, and it’s always been great to write back. I know some of you are on the fence, or not sure what to say, or you’re not sure you want to, and that’s OK also. I’d like to think this corner of the web is a nice safe place for us weirdos.
Have a good day, and enjoy your coffee or beverage of choice.
Footnotes
1 : to be honest, she wasn’t the first weird person that liked me, but she was the first one where things were mutual. There was another person in highschool, an outcast who stood out, but I was too dumb and naaive to let myself just be myself. Years and years alter I’m still kicking myself for this.
Let's talk Soap
So, soap. No, I’m not talking about an Emacs package (though, of course, it exists) or some fancy IT tool, but actual soap - the kind you use in the shower.
I’ve been on a search for a good soap for years. I’ve found a couple that I like more and a few like less, but so far I don’t have one. Maybe it’s because different soaps are good for different things: in my case, I use one soap for my face and scalp (I’m a bald dude) and another for everything else.
I prefer gentler soaps that smell “manly.” I usually stay away from all the man-woman branding stuff as much as I can, but generally speaking, I prefer the “manly” scents over the feminine ones. If I had to point toward a scent I like, I’d point to lavender (which I also like in my Earl Grey, which makes it in a London Fog latte, one of my favorites, but I digress).
My current go-to is Everyone (for everybody) soap, but it’s mostly autopilot. At the moment I’m actually using some of the generic Dove men’s soaps, before I try something else. My neighborhood pharmacy carries a few different brands, so I have more experimentation to do.
I mentioned earlier that I use a different soap for my face and scalp, and for that, I usually use CeraVe stuff. At some point in the past, I got their face lotion, liked it, and stayed with it - and from there I continued with their soaps. I’ve read in a couple of places that shampoos are good for the scalp (that’s what they’re meant for), and I use them now and then, but nothing really sticks.
Another word about body soaps: I’m not sure if I prefer liquid in one of those plastic bottles or a bar. The liquid is convenient, but I have to keep getting more. A bar is usually more concentrated (and can have a stronger scent), and I like that I can keep it in one hand, or just scrape some against a body brush for rough skin, like on the feet - but then you have one hand, and besides it always slides away and fall as if it has it obays its own gravity rules. Weird.
So that’s where I am with soap. What about you? Would you mind sharing?
Overinformation
I wanted to try the fake eggs (Just Eggs), so I did, and well… They taste like putty. Don’t ask me how I know, I just do. There are so many ingredients with weird chemicals in them! What the hell am I eating anyway? I started to freak out; I mean, I can’t even have scrambled eggs anymore!
Of course this is nonsense. Egg whites are a thing, and one egg here and there won’t kill me, and there are also so many other things I can make for breakfast. But tell it to my overwhelmed head that watched an hour worth of vegan YouTube videos yesterday. They all look so quick and easy if you know what to buy, where to buy, and have a blender, and have a big kitchen with all the equipment you know you need and know how to operate. Yes yes, as I told myself just yesterday, Rome was not built in one day. I know, I know! And everyone has advice, because everyone wants to help (at least I’m surrounded by caring people, that’s a plus, I know for many vegans the start is a big “wtf is wrong with you” from family and friends), and it’s just so much.
I know this is how I roll. I always get everything into my head, it just loves sponging all the information. So now I’m like a kid with a big Lego set spilled on the carpet in front of him, trying to build a spaceship, ya know? It’s just a lot.
Today there’s a farmer’s market. I’m going to get myself veggies which I’m familiar with and focus on a salad (which I’m familiar with), and all I’m going to do is to spill beans into it. See how this works out. Then, since I have that soft tofu, I will substitute the Just Eggs (more like, just plastic) for tofu scrambles with some more veggies (tomatos should be good enough) and spices. Start with stuff I know. Another protein shake here, another hummus snack there, breath… breath… you’ll be fine.
One thing I’m realizing as I transition to vegan foods is the need to cook more often. đĨ
Most restaurants don’t have a lot of vegan options (even here in NYC, it’s kind of an “add-on” section on the menu, and dedicated vegan restaurants close down all the time), and vegan groceries are usually super-duper processed.
Looks like I’ll need to get over my fear of food processors and blenders. But at the same time, a mental note for myself that everything takes time, and I won’t just “learn kung fu”. It’s a life thing, not a week thing.
I'm 70 percent vegan already...
The cardiologist explained the test results to me. The stress test was excellent, no surprise there. With low blood pressure and a healthy heart, I can keep running and exercising.
My Carotid Artery Doppler Exam though (ultrasound scan for the arteries in the neck) was a different story. If I didn’t have a family history, I can imagine he’d maybe say that we’ll watch it before we start with medication.
But I do have a family history, and the plaque is there. I was expecting this with my last blood test results. So medicine it is.
My feelings are mixed. There’s worry and some sadness, but I prefer it over stupid (and dangerous) ignorance. A sense of commitment and responsibility toward my exercise routine. There’s also a sense of purpose I need to explore, to see where it leads and from where.
I’ve already given up cheese, and I can’t remember how many years ago I gave up milk. Chicken and fish are probably next (I have given up other meat a long time ago).
The real challenge, I think, is to find something to eat in restaurants and in social settings. But this NYC, home to many vegans. One more won’t make much of a difference.
Yesterday we finished watching season two of Severance, and it got me so angry. I was fuming. I had to go for a walk and leave poor Nat with the takeout containers to clean (I did apologize and say he can just put it in a bag, but the shock I gave him was a different story)
Why was I so angry? To explain that I need to explain more than a decade of my lifestyle and the impact it had on my life in light of what is considered to be normal or usual, which is what I suspect the show’s target audience is.
Don’t get me wrong, the show itself is great, the story is good, and my anger wasn’t really directed at the story or the characters in it; it was mostly directed at its creators and the mindset. And from there it escalated to the whole “what’s wrong with the world,” and me barking at clouds again.
The good thing that came out of it, besides the nice walk, was to start a new lifestyle category on my blog and see how it goes. The trick is to know what not to include under “lifestyle,” because I have a tendency to use “life” as an overall category for everything that doesn’t fit anywhere else.
So while I’m not 100% sure what it will be yet, it’s there, with its own dedicated RSS feed and all (I need to explain the feeds of my blogs a bit better for you RSS folks out there).
Just another day
In a rather genius moment, I scheduled a meeting to review an intake form with the crew at 13:00 today, when I had a doctor’s appointment at 14:45 (travel time is approximately 40 minutes) that I had forgotten about.
The meeting, of course, took longer than planned, which meant I had to rush and take a Lyft instead of the subway. I got there on time, even though we got stuck behind a truck that was backing into a construction site. I love me some car horn symphony and yelling.
I did manage to get to the doctor on time, and decided to walk back to West Side through Central Park, which was nice, besides the heat. Heavy and humid, it was especially punishing when I couldn’t find shade.
On the train back home, I realized the ride was a bit longer than it should have been, and the station numbers seemed off. Turns out I forgot I was on the D train and kept riding it into the Bronx instead of getting off on time and switching.
Got some time to chill at home with a cool shower and a nap, and now I’m about to watch X-Files with NK. So, you know, not everything is annoying; some things are still nice.
I need to make some changes
Yesterday I went to the cardiologist for a physical stress test. That’s the kind of test where they have you run on a treadmill on an incline with a bunch of wires attached to you to check how your heart and your circulatory system work. I asked for this exam because of hereditary high cholesterol levels that are raging in both my mom and dad, and going back to my grandparents.
I’m usually an active guy who tries to exercise every single day on my gym equipment here at home. I’m far from being “jacked” or anything like that, but I’ve never been overweight, and all in all, I’ve kept an almost vegetarian diet for most of my life (chicken breast twice a week or so). I cut out cheese and dairy from my diet completely about two months ago. This will only help somewhat; it will probably only buy me a couple of years before I have to take medications, probably.
I was happy with the quality stress check they did on me yesterday. It was long and thorough. They took the time (about half an hour) to check everything before they put me on the treadmill. The test itself started fine, I walk every day (even on short days, I try always to take the stairs), and I was comfortable even at high walking speeds with an incline. But when they had me start running, I was out of breath within minutes.
This is a test that is designed to push my comfort levels. To get to that point, they had to include higher speeds and additional incline, but still, I didn’t like how fast I was uncomfortable with jogging. I used to have the ability to switch to what I call “running breaths,” where I breathe through my nose and exhale through my mouth and maintain this for a pretty long time. At my best, I would go for more than an hour at a low speed before I stopped, still comfortable. I was never a fast runner, but I was in decent shape. Yesterday, I had to ask them to stop. I was lying on the bed after the run so that they could check my heart rate, and I was breathing hard and couldn’t hold my breath too long when they asked me so that they could check me.
This annoys me. To this point, I’ve been fairly flexible with my exercise routine, and to be fair, I got around to it most days of the week sooner or later (sometimes after a nap, as I still have my sleeping issues). But these are strength exercises with weights, and they are usually short, around 20-30 minutes or so. I tried to pick up running a few months ago, but I let my daily workload at my job and the rising temperature convince me to give up on it.
These days, a week doesn’t go by where people close to me are telling me that I work too much, probably because that’s all I talk about. I can make adjustments to my sleep hygiene, but I know it will only go so far. I’ve been sleeping too little and making up for it later in the day for some five or six years, and I’m able to adjust to a degree.
The problem with running is that it needs to be a morning habit. I need to wake up early and have enough energy to go outside. I can start by walking and go on from there - this is my usual Jedi mind trick - but the time of day must be the morning because there is no later time for running. That’s a problem because of my sleep, which is a problem because of work, and the little time I already have for myself as is.
About Dunbar and (not having) Relationship Circles
I have an indirect problem with the Dunbar number and measuring relationships in circles. It’s not Dunbar; the limit is how many close (or best) friends I can have. That number (the Dunbar number) makes sense to me. It’s more that I don’t really have these circles people talk about.
While I have some form of a hierarchy in my relationships, I probably don’t separate them the same way most people would. For one thing, I’m non-monogamous, which means I don’t have just one “life” partner. I gave up on trying to make this monogamous model work for me a long time ago. For another, intimacy does not automatically mean sex to me, which I feel is heavily indicated when people say “intimate.”
So now that I look at these charts, what are my circles? If I’m comfortable with someone and feel close enough to them (good friend? best friend?), an intimate connection is possible, at least for me. There’s no separation. You could argue with me that an intimate relationship could maybe “promote” someone from a “good” friend to a “best” friend, but that’s not true for me either, especially if you mean sex.
Now add to that the fact that I’m child-free to this confusion (I don’t want to have kids, and neither do my partners), and the whole family unit model goes out the window.
OK, so where do I draw the circles?
That’s the thing. I don’t think I have circles. Maybe one circle, which is more like a cloud of “good friends” (which includes close friends, best friends, whatever friends) and just people I know. These folks can move closer to me and further apart, as they have over the years. Beyond the cloud, there’s another level of acquaintances, people I have a routine with (like co-workers) that are something Nick calls recurring strangers. And beyond that..? I don’t think I have much of anything. It’s just people.
So, I don’t know. I never quite fit into these norms, and I still don’t. For me, it’s just how I live.