Yesterday wound up being a ten hour workday at Starbucks, mostly because of weather and unpredictability; it's odd, when you consider Westchester a part of New York City's environs, to realize that when you get 60 miles north of the city, the weather changes almost completely.
Thus a fairly rainy day in the City became an icy treacherous mess for northern Westchester, shutting most major highways, and even key connecting routes: unlike many suburbs, Westchester is not - by design - heavy with major roads, and thus traveling between towns, especially east-west, is accomplished on what can often seem like winding back country roads... except for the gated million dollar homes off of them.
Starbucks has a toehold in many of the towns of Central Westchester - more along the Harlem line than the Hudson, for those familiar with Metro North - and it's been a pretty successful strategy. Near, or even in, the train station hubs along the route, we get both commuters and the families who stay closer to home and visit the village hub to shop and, in the old fashioned sense, be neighborly.
So yesterday, while all around us was chaos, there was an odd, cheery welcoming feel to the workplace. Stranded travelers came in to wait out the storm, share stories and compare notes on the roads. Regulars hung out, some longer than usual, rather than brave the cold rain and icy sidewalks. But things were slow enough that we could operate on a bare bones staff, and accomplish some key tasks.
I mention this because it was odd to feel safe yet disconnected, unconcerned and yet worried, ultimately, about how I would get home. Everything we heard came through a filter - we saw no car accidents, witnessed no hours-long traffic tie-ups - but it felt very real and immediate. And thinking about it once I did get home - when the temperature rose and the rain was just rain - I realized it was nice to have a port in a storm. And to provide one, for others.
Comments