Hey, could you watch my stuff?

I spend a lot of time in Starbucks.  But, I don't spend a lot of money on coffee.  More often than not, I buy a tall black coffee and spend approximately $1.80.  Some days I add half and half, other days I don't.  It's really pretty good rent.  For $1.80 I get an internet connection, air conditioning, 120v power, live entertainment, and don't forget - I also get a cup of half-way decent coffee.

The live entertainment alone is worth the price.  It's amazing what wanders into a Starbucks.  I'm currently writing from the corner of a busy Starbucks and can see a college age girl in cowboy boots- not that cowboy boots are worthy of notice in a small rodeo town like Livermore.  But she's wearing a shortish dress, and a very long sweater.  From the back, she is wearing cowboy boots and a long sweater.

Just behind her is a gentleman with long hair and large gold nose rings.  Behind them is another woman in a long flowing black dress, which - I'm no fashion geek, but - looks like something a Chinese woman might have worn 75 years ago.  Tied to her messenger bag are a pair of black shoes, and peeking out from under the dress are a pair of blue denim colored, corduroy slippers.  She's chatting with the large woman behind her, who must be from Wisconsin, or has grandchildren in Wisconsin, or possibly came across the bright green T-shirt with large white letters at a garage sale and liked the colors.

I'm not judging them.  I actually fit in.

I'm not criticizing; just acknowledging that these folks are evenly dispersed among the men in business suits, mothers guiding baby strollers, and air conditioner technicians also waiting in line.  If catching a decent glimpse of a large cross section of American culture is entertaining to you, then Starbucks is live entertainment.

The show can be distracting, so I often put in headphones and secret myself behind my computer screen to shut out the noise and get some work done.  My work consists of catching up on emails too lengthy to deal with from my phone, writing proposals, and whatever else needs to be done before I'll have a chance to get back to the office.

I can get a lot done at a Starbucks, but I can only sit at the table for so long after finishing 12 ounces of coffee.  And that speaks to another benefit available for only $1.80 - a clean bathroom.  My experience has been that the vast majority of those ordering coffee from Starbucks are honest and kind.   I suspect, however, that once in a while, one of another sort makes his or her way in too.  Thus, it makes me nervous to leave my computer sitting unattended at my table as I step out for a moment.  On the other hand, packing up the computer and charger, clipboard and everything else is a hassle and runs the risk of losing my corner table.

So I will often lean over to the nearest person likely to stick around for the next 3 minutes and say, "Hey, could you watch my stuff?"  They always can.  And it's not unusual for someone to lean over to me and ask the same thing.

 "Excuse me - do you mind keeping an eye on this for me?"

"Sure," I say, and go about my business.  And I do watch their stuff, and I suppose they watch mine.  And it sits there and doesn't do anything worth noting.  I've never seen a computer slam closed and scurry off, or seen anyone make a dive for another's laptop the second the bathroom door clicks shut.  Actually, I've never seen anything remotely resembling a crime ever take place in a Starbucks.

But I got to thinking - what exactly do we hope the person watching our stuff is going to do?

Next time, I might ask.

"Excuse me," a fella might say, "could you watch my stuff?"

"Sure,"  I reply; then, "Oh hey, wait a second - should I come get you if someone grabs your stuff?"

"Uh, well I hadn't thought about that."

"Well," I would say, " I've given it a little thought, and as I figure it, here are your options.  First, I could come knock on the bathroom door and let you know that someone has grabbed your computer.  Then you might either hurry up and finish, so that you can run after them, or we might come to some sort of agreement about what it would be worth to you, for me to run after them.  Should we just discuss that now, or would you rather wait and chat through the closed restroom door?"

By this time he has stopped walking and is probably, slowly, inching back toward his table and laptop computer.

"Or, another option," I would continue, "would be that I just jump up and start yelling at the thief. That might work, and might not, but I would at least be doing something.  You might even hear me in the restroom and know to kind of hurry things up."

My audience by this time would have returned to his seat, but would still be listening.

"I'm not sure what the legality of this next option is," I would continue, "but possibly you would like for me to hit anyone that grabs at your computer.  I'm a little uncomfortable with this idea, but it would be best if we clarify this before you walk away with me in charge of your stuff.  I would hate to disappoint you with my lack of decisive action - supposing that's what you were thinking."
"Were any of these options what you had in mind?  Cause, ya know I could always just watch your stuff."

I doubt I would have to watch his stuff.

Like I said, there are a lot of entertaining people that come and go through a Starbucks.  Wouldn't it be worth the price of admission one day, to see Ms. Wisconsin jump up and run to the bathroom yelling, "That girl in the Chinese dress just grabbed your computer!"  Wisconsin might even bang on the men's restroom door.  I would see the absconded laptop tucked under an arm, shrinking into the distance.  A vault from the curb, an arc of blue corduroy, and a flutter of skirts would land the woman in the pickup truck driven by a college aged girl wearing a dress and cowboy boots.   Flapping in the warm breeze, a few inches at the tail of her long sweater would be trapped in the door.

The storefront glass doors would burst open and out into the courtyard would rush a man with gold nose rings - just in time to see the tail lights of a pickup truck round the corner.

He would finish tucking in his shirt, and I would be glad he didn't ask me to watch his stuff.