A long time ago, I had a conversation with a dear one about coffee. I have a deep love affair with my morning Joe. I cheat on my husband with him daily. I sometimes think about him as I fall asleep. Freshly ground, deep, dark, rich coffee. It's my morning ritual and my day is not complete without several cups.
Hot in the morning, iced in the afternoon. Or a hot mug, always present, Joe never lets me down.
My dear one, whom I mentioned earlier, couldn't imagine paying close to $5 for a cup of coffee. "Heck," he said, "I don't even pay that for a pot of coffee." "I hardly pay that for a pound," he went on.
Now, as I've also mentioned, I'm a coffee lover. I made a pilgrimage to Kona just to see the beans on their native hillside. I almost didn't leave the island because of it.
"You're not paying for the coffee," I said in an instant of inspiration. "You're paying for a meeting place, the ability to park at a table and read, write, work, or connect."
And, you know what? I was right.
I spent four hours recently connecting with two other moms across the table, while holding steaming cups of almost $5 coffee. We more than profited from the investment. We bought time. Time away from our daily grind, time to share joys and challenges. Time to laugh and support, commiserate and bond.
Worth every penny.
I'm a bit of a cheapskate. I invest only in things that really mean something to me. I don't cruise the mall, I frequent thrift stores, I cut coupons, and I pinch pennies until they scream. Pay $5 for a cup of coffee? No way. Pay $5 to park at a table and connect with other moms?
You bet your bottom dollar.