They looked like they were from out of town. You can tell because they seemed unsure of where they were, what they would find and how they might be treated.
“They” were two couples in their early 30s, I would have guessed Eastern European but I would have guessed wrong. This was Cafe Smitten a few days ago, the morning shift, when the only way to drink your coffee outside is to huddle around the circular, propane-fueled fire pit.
The two couples looked lost, but they didn’t order lost. They were four but ordered like six — granola, Greek eggs, Moroccan eggs, bagel with egg and cheese, blueberry scones. There may have been something on the menu they didn't order, but if there was, it was in the small print on the back page.
The seating around the fire pit can accommodate six, when people sit a few feet back and away from each other which people have grown accustomed to doing lately. When the servers started bringing their food, they were caught between not wanting to impose and wondering if they might sit in the empty chairs in front of the fire.
“Would you like to sit down?” my friend Vince and I said almost at the same time.
The seats weren’t ours to give, but they weren’t ours to hoard either. Shelter from the cold is the subject of a million songs and half the Bible. If you can’t do this much, it’s time to return to the cave and not come out for a couple of ice ages.
“Thank you,” said one of the men who was wearing a wool cap over a shaved head. “In L.A., this wouldn’t happen.”
“L.A.” was Culver City in his and his wife's case but not “from around here” turned out to be an understatement. The four of them had grown up in Brazil and one couple lived in L.A. “Wool cap” managed four Brazilian restaurants there and his wife was a nanny. The other couple had lived in Portland and then moved to Jersey City, N.J., where he worked as a software engineer.
“Wool cap” and the “Jersey City” spouse were cousins. The foursome was on their way to Sequoia and Bakersfield was halfway there.
Bakersfield’s good for that. Centrally located. Halfway there.
We talked for a half-hour. It was like traveling without going anywhere. Getting to know new people. Wondering where they’re from. Trying to figure out what language is being spoken, looking for common ground on what can be foreign but not hostile soil.
In 30 minutes, we became friends, exchanged business cards and email addresses. They were curious and good listeners. We gave our best “Welcome to Bakersfield” spiel.
We said goodbye. It didn’t matter if this was all it was and we never saw each other again, it was time well-spent. We hunger for connection and sometimes you find it sitting in front of a fire talking about family, work and places you’ve been or would like to go.
Since I completely fumbled the call on 2020, I’m going to double down on 2021. I think we’re more than halfway home. On the comeback trail. On the road, no matter where that road might lead and who we befriend along the way.
January 01, 2021 at 05:50AM
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HERB BENHAM: We're halfway home - The Bakersfield Californian
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Herb
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