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Goin’ Local

I’ve got about 1/2 an hour this morning before I go relieve Rob at TMO (Wyatt’s pre-preschool, where somebody has to be the parent volunteer). He’s #3 to go through it, and we–along with the five other families in the class with #3–finally figured out (or maybe that should be I finally figured out) that if you split the morning it’s actually kind of fun.

Anyway, I popped in for my treat of the week: one Lou’s chocolate cruller. It should perhaps be said that sometimes these are indulged in more than weekly, particularly in times of great stress–anyway, the point isn’t my eating habits, but that I’m a pretty regular popper-inner at Lou’s and usually end up there with one kid or another every week or so.

This morning I became an official regular. Walked in and saw a pretty big line of unknown folk waiting at the register to pay for meals and whatnot–and the counter guy caught sight of me, waved me up, and got me all crullered up before the touristren even noticed. So that’s it; I’m in.

Now, I’ll never be a real “local”. That takes a lot longer than 7 years in New England. But this is a town and gown kind of place, where incomers are judged a little more harshly, even if they’re not connected with the college. Will they stay? Will they last? Will they whine if the bagels aren’t to their liking?

So it’s nice to get the nod at Lou’s.

I wonder if that’s one of the things Starbuck’s offers that they haven’t quite clued into–the pleasure of being a regular. In general, non-little-town life, I’m not sure you really get familiar with the people around you. Grocery-store going is erratic and the clerks transient. Same with restaurants unless, like us, you’re limited to a selection of five. But coffee…if it’s your habit to go out and get it, you go to the same place every day, and it’s nice to say hi.

I haven’t quite finished this thought, but I’m about to break the TMO covenant. Gotta run.

Bet you’re thinking this is going to be a liberal Starbucks drinking post a


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