You Can't Take the Sky (Coffee) From Me

All week, I've been looking forward to this morning. Finally, now that we are beginning to settle into some semblance of a routine with the baby, I planned to haul myself out of bed and hit one of my favorite local coffee shops for some writing time. I called a couple days before to verify that yes, the lobby is open, and yes, it will open at 7 a.m. on Saturday. I couldn't wait. 

Unfortunately, I forgot just how long it takes to leave the house when a newborn is involved. When I had gotten breakfast, dressed, changed the baby's diaper twice, nursed her, and dressed her, forty-five minutes had slipped away. No matter, I told myself as I happily drove us down the road. It's not even 8 a.m. yet, and we'll have plenty of time to write. I could almost taste the light fruity notes of their in-house blend on my tongue. 

I pulled into the parking lot and noticed that the drive-thru had plenty of cars, but nobody was parked. Probably no one wants to camp out in the lobby with Covid, I thought. I hopped out of the minivan and carried the baby up to the front door...which was locked. I could see an employee sweeping the floor, but he made no move to unlock the door. Frustrated, I called the coffee shop, explaining my confusion. Oh, the lobby doesn't open until...let me see, it's Saturday...9 a.m. 

"They're not going to beat us," I told the baby as I packed her back in the minivan. I drove determinedly, looking for something, anything, with an open lobby. I saw a Panera and parked, leaving the door open so the baby could get air while I rushed in. 

"Excuse me?" I called to the first employee I saw. "Is your lobby open, for, like, sitting here and drinking?" 

"Of course," she replied, her voice sounding like she thought I was crazy. Proclaiming my thanks, I fetched the baby, accidentally ordered a huge coffee (the contact-free ordering system wasn't hugely clear to me), and found my table. 

I may not be in my favorite coffee shop, I'm wearing a mask, and I may have had to deal with a crying baby before she fell asleep on my chest, but I'm here: highly caffeinated and thanking God for the gift of the Panera lobby being open. 

I find myself serenading all the postpartum and Covid-19 inconveniences with the Firefly theme song: "You can't take the sky from me."

Or in this case, my precious coffee-writing time.