Is There A Coffee Shop That Isn't Full of Weirdos?

Today is a beautiful day. I hope that you are outside enjoying it, because in New York the weather is in the low eighties and in Brooklyn, where I'm at now, Prospect Park is blooming and there are plenty of patches of green where you can lay out a blue blanket and eat chips and drink Diet Plum Tea Snapple as I was doing just a few minutes ago. Of course, when you're underemployed (I will not say unemployed until the very last steady freelance jobs I have go out the window--fingers crossed that they won't!) slash student hybrid, but not a real student, because you're taking classes from three different institutions instead of one (don't ask, this was poorly planned) you have to do work on the weekends. Even glorious ones like these.

So after I was in the park and picking out china from Real Simple and also circling all the restaurants and boutiques I want to go to in New York magazine, I'm in a coffee shop. Now, no judgment here, because I am one of the people that must spend this beautiful day inside, and perhaps they are too. But everyone around me is a creepy weirdo and it's dark in here and the music is blasting and I think it's Maria Carey. And not the good Maria Carey. And it's really loud. And no one is talking to each other and we're all looking at our little screens like that part in Wall-E that gave me weird dreams for a while.

And I need to write a short story that I can publish before I apply to MFA programs and I can't, because I keep staring at everyone and with my mouth hanging open. Why why why would someone choose to be here if they didn't have to! And why is the music so wrong and everyone that works here keep screaming "Fur Burger" to each other?

I am not ready to be a person in a coffeeshop all day. Dear Lord I need an office so badly. If you know a place where I can go that is a little less like this, please tell me. I'm afraid of what I'll become here.

Now go outside and away from me and the other trolls. We're being weird in the dark recesses of Brooklyn instead of interacting with other people, the least you could do is have fun because we don't know how to.