Good for the Mess!

At one of the Starbucks I frequent, I'm always bemused by the variety of items left on the bar where coffee patrons sip, read the paper, and type industriously.

It's almost a still life model of the mundane, incongruous, and odd. 

This evening there were five rolls of toilet paper (one of which was unwrapped from its green packaging); three really large bags of coffee beans in spaceship-silver sacks; a cardboard box stuffed with 1,200 Sugar(s)-in-the-Raw; a plastic bottle of some clear flavored syrup (its label turned away . . . imagination could have converted it to olive oil or mouthwash); an empty pitcher that still appeared stained with tea at its bottom; and (finally) a square of blue plastic emptied of whatever pastries had been delivered in it. 

I find this curious, in that I could well imagine a scene similar to this in my place of residence. Things just end up on top of surfaces randomly, haphazardly. It's very unlikely anyone from the general public will ever witness this private clutter. But at Starbucks it seems strange. 

I'm not offended. And actually I am more amused than bemused. 

The rest of the store seems organized, with things seemingly where they're meant to go. It's just this narrow neighborhood that appears disheveled . . . like a lock of hair that keeps standing up above a part. 

So, I suppose this is actually a cheer for the non-homogeneous, for less-than-meticulous appearance, and an attitude that doesn't seem to care . . . I mean, every time I come here there's always a display on the bar. 

Good for the mess! This Starbucks is like no other.