11:02am -

Organized chaos in a Florence coffee shop

We are drawn in by the facade of a quintessential cafe storefront window, we go inside and are greeted by a cavernous interior that unfolds to two stories, multiple sprawling seating areas, we hesitate and a couple locals who know the norms go ahead of us and find a seat (more assertively than us). I huff arrogantly, forgetting that I’m not center of the universe. It’s the morning rush on the weekend. All tables are taken, all manner of languages being spoken, the waitresses strategically cooling themselves off before hurrying to greet the next arrival. We get seated near the interior balcony; our perch gives us this unobstructed view of the goings-on below with the baristas and unassuming parties interacting, planning, ordering.

Maybe there’s a lesson in acceptance here, in being right on top of each other — in relinquishing control and embracing the (mostly) organized chaos. So much sound, but none of it noise, busy but not frantic; it’s not ear-drum rattling bass and I’m not interacting with chronically inconvenienced, underpaid (and therefore disinterested and disgruntled) servers. It’s something quite different than what I’m used to back home.