If I Met My Younger Self For Coffee

I’m rushing to throw together an outfit. I trust that I picked out a good one last night, but it just feels... I don’t know... off. Can anything really feel right for this?! What will she think of my outfit?! Will she be impressed, embarrassed, mortified... AGHHH!

“It’s just one coffee date”, I tell myself. BREATHE! in...hold...out..., again. Damn, that really does help. You can leave at any point, you are in control of the situation, they are just a part of you.

I get an alert on my Apple watch: coffee date in 15 minutes. I know it takes me 8 minutes to get my shoes, coat, and pocket stuff together and get there. Seven minutes til we’re exactly on time, but let's leave in 5 so we’re there reasonably early without seeming too desperate.

I throw on and pull off another few shirts, and end up sticking with something so similar to what I picked out the night before. My room is spotless, minus the ‘chair’ that is littered with shirts and cargos. I think of all the times I’ve had this mountain of clothes while trying to find what feels right on my body. I haven't had this panic in a while; I’ve felt so good in my body recently, but today is different, there’s just more nerves.

I have Google shut off all the lights in the house, grab my keys, and check myself out in the mirror. We did good! Okay! Now... jacket time. “Let’s get out of here” I whisper to myself as I race down the hall to catch the elevator, still amazed I live in such a nice building.

The One Who is New to it All

I get there just as planned and scope out the room; 2 minutes to spare. There she is! sitting with a book in front of her. I can see her frustration with her bookmark not being as far as she would like, but hey, she isn’t aimlessly scrolling on a device and I like that.

Seeing myself as a middle schooler throws me so far back in time. I catch myself grinning right when I spot her; she has this HUGE infectious smile that lights up a room. She’s shifting in her seat, legs dangling, not reaching the floor. I can see she’s a little uncomfortable; this is all so new for her.

I walk up to the table, get her attention, and introduce myself. She isn’t sure if she should shake my hand or give me a hug. I smile and remember what it feels like to be this nervous about every movement; so uncomfortable in new situations, but also trying so hard to be okay with it all.

To ease the awkwardness, I offer to get our drinks. I see her eyes relax. I wonder how long she’s been thinking about this outing and how it would affect her budget. She’s looking over the menu. “What are you going to get?” she asks; a sense of wonder about all these options floating through her head. I know what I want, but I don’t want it to affect her decision, so I tell her I am not sure yet. She goes back to the menu and I see she’s having a hard time. We stand on line in silence for a minute while I watch her flip back and forth through the menu. RIGHTTT, how could I not think of this?! This used to matter so much to me!! I lean over to the barista and quietly chat about some of the drink ingredients. I turn back to her and point out the few options that are Kosher. She is so excited the hot cocoa is one of those items. I order it with extra whipped cream without thinking about the extra cost, hoping it’ll make her day. I tap my watch to the terminal and pay. It’s something so normal to me, but I watch her be amazed with the access to technology I have.

I wonder what she thinks of me for a second, but then think of what I think of myself. I feel pretty cool. I just thought of someone else's needs, talked to the barista with such confidence, and then BOOP, tapped my watch and paid. Look at me go!

I try to stay present while we get back to our table and wait for our drinks. We both adjust our outfits. I pull my sleeves out from under my jacket, I really hate the feeling of it when it rolls up. She pulls up her knee high socks. Looks like we both have sensory issues. I can see her have some shame as she does this. Does she think her outfit is too religious, not religious enough, is she just not comfortable? I decided to let it slide and start a lighter conversation. “How has your week been,” I ask.