Choose Strong
For Tim.
One addiction Bill has fallen for since migrating to the West is coffee where
sugar, fat, and caffeine join force in a cup of bitter-sweet richness to tempt
the palate and heighten the spirit. Nothing compares, especially after a couple
of days without it. Over the years, Bill tried to quit a few times. It was
like stopping smoking for some people: the craving kept coming back. While he
was successful in staying away from tobacco, in America at least, he gave up
quiting the beverage in the end.
Bill has not turned into a coffeeholic or a bon vivant, if that is any consolation. Two
cups top a day. Aware of the cost and indifferent of the ways milk is injected in the
drink, he perfers a "tall" coffee all the time. His daily need expires naturally:
if he misses a cup early morning, he has no problem doing without the
rest of the day. There seems to be a pattern as he has a similar taste in alcohol,
happy with one liang (兩 in Chinese, about 2 ounces) of the hard liqor Er Guo Tou
(二鍋頭), with dinner, and three or four times a week.
As businesses started re-opening after months of shelter-in-home, Bill first
visited the Starbucks he used to frequent before Covid. He was the only customer, the wifi and music were still on, and the baristas were
recognizable behind face masks and glass shields. The floor was marked with
scotchblue for people to line up and keep distance. The giant banquet table was
gone from the center. In its place, chairs were stacked up, and the small tables
that used to line along the edges of the room were placed together. The loss
felt real that he could no longer sit and enjoy his drink there.
Bill always had an eye for the shop's furniture. The chairs and tables were
made for heavy usage and had the right height for people to sit comfortably
for a couple of hours. The chairs especially were of solid wood with a dark
chocolate finish and slightly saddled seats. Less bulky than dining chairs, they were
stackable and easy to handle. The sense of quality was no illusion. As he found out
later, they were made by TON, a Canadian firm dating back to 1790s. He had never
seen this style anywhere else, not online or even in another Starbucks. Unlike many
people, Bill was more attracted to old things that last than novel things that
"improve." [He loathed things that change for change's sake.]
"What a waste!" he tought to himself and blurted: "What are you going to do with
these tables and chairs? No one's sitting down now."
"We are doing a remodeling and are getting rid of them. Feel free if you want to
take any."
"What?!" Bill couldn't believe his ears. "You mean I can just pick them up?"
"Sure. Let me know which ones you are taking." the young manager, Monica, said
cheerfully.
Within an hour, fearing that she might change her mind, Bill came back in his
hatchback and piled in four chairs and two tables.
"You are sure you don't want more? These are very sturdy. The new chairs we are
getting are a bit flimsy, actually."
"Don't tempt me. I'm feeling greedy already." He didn't understand why nobody
else was taking them.
Back in his old and now-empty house, after cleaning, Bill set up his loot.
Sitting at a table, sipping coffee, and listening to music, he felt just like
the good old days. Better yet, his furniture now had a story more interesting
than simply a great deal. They might even become vintage someday.
He still cannot believe his luck and wonders about why no one else was taking the old but durable chairs. Neomania, coined by Taleb for the obsession with things new, must be more widespread and deep-rooted than Bill thought.