Ah, The People We Meet

As a basic rule I'm generally not a Starbucks guy. However, there are times that by hook or crook--Starbucks is where I can be found. One Thursday morning I stopped in for a chocolate chip cookie; a delicacy I allow myself one to two times per annum. I brought out my notebook and started writing--yes I know a novelist taking up real estate in a Starbucks, how…vomitus. I sat at the communal table across from a nice looking woman in her late 60's. She had long straight black, gray streaked hair. Each of us went about their business: she upon laptop and me upon old school papyrus.

Fifteen minutes into our 'work' we slid into some small talk as she stood to leave. She claimed that she rarely frequented Starbucks but needed the WIFI. She asked what I was writing and in under 500 words I told her of my first book Crescendo and how I was writing book II; Drumroll Please. When I told her my main character was a drummer she asked if I too was a drummer. I answered in the affirmative and she added, "me too." Her British accent possessed a sprinkling of the cockney.

"Cool," I said, "and good for you we need more female drummers."

"Yes, I dated a drummer for awhile and when he wasn't home I'd play his drums. After awhile Mitch started teaching me a few things."

"Mitch?" I said working on a long, long, long shot of a theory.

"Yes, a bloke named Mitch Mitchell."

My heart nearly busted out of my chest. I sat up straighter and attempted to shrink the size of my smile but failed.

"Do you mean Jimi Hendrix's drummer Mitch Mitchell?"

"Yeah, do you know him?" she asked smiling as if we had a bloke in common.

"Well, yeah. I mean I don't know him or didn't know him but…Jimi is my all- time favorite artist. So you…you and Mitch…wow!" I say brilliantly. At this point in the conversation 'Tracy' put her lap top back on the table and sat back down. We hit it off like long lost friends. We had commonalities after all. We both dug Jimi and Mitch; we both liked to talk and were both non-Starbuckians on passing rafts on the Starbuckian sea of over priced drinks, cheesy writers (like me) and high priced dumb-dumb CD compilations.

 Apparently 'Tracy' hung out back in the day near Abbey Road. She and her close girlfriend would frequent the pubs. She claimed that she 'looked pretty good' in those days and thus had most of her drinks bought for her by the likes of Mitch Mitchell (obviously), Paul McCartney, Brian May (guitar player of Queen) and a host of others. I grinned like a kid does on his first roller coaster ride but without the screaming…barely without the screaming. Even if she was fabricating I didn't care I was all ears. But I believed her, I could see it in her eyes. She was the real McCoy. We ended up talking for over 90 minutes.

I'm a people guy not a Starbucks guy yet I have Starbucks to thank for if Starbucks didn't occupy every damn corner in North America I would not have met 'Tracy' the sweet 60-something British dame with the straight gray-black hair who used to run with the heavyweight british rockers from back in the day. Ah, the people we meet. Ain't life grand!