If you work on the street near a coffee shop, what are you going to do? Get a coffee from there, of course. When my daughter worked at the competing coffee shop nearby, she said that they had frequent visits from the area workers.. 

Sometimes, they’d even swap products: burgers for coffee, baked goods for coffee. She claims though that the Apple store employees did not give her charge cords for coffee. That’s the deal I would want  especially since the coffee is equal in value to the drinks.

There’s a big jewelry store down the street from the coffee shop. Yes, I know where your mind just went. Wouldn’t that be the deal of the century: jewels for coffee. Sadly, that’s not where my story is headed. It’s raining today but the security guard who works at the jewelry store needs his coffee before the store opens. 

As he leaves here, I see him pause for a moment, possibly a mental debate, before he crosses the street to the bakery. A few moments later, he’s leaving the bakery with a bag and his drink. It’s raining, though, so now he has a conundrum. He wants to eat his treat but he hasn’t enough hands to hold his umbrella, the coffee and the treat, especially not while he’s eating said treat. 

What’s a person to do? I’ll tell you. He leans the umbrella on his shoulder, propped against the telephone pole, while he unwraps the treat but holds the bag around it, possibly to keep his fingers from getting sticky. Now, he can stand at the corner, eat the treat and drink his iced coffee without getting wet. Genius.

The bakery has been busy since they opened early this morning. Some people are buying neujahrsbrezel, which, in case you aren’t familiar, is a sweet pastry shaped like a pretzel. It’s quite popular in Pittsburgh and supposedly brings good luck in the new year. I could use some good luck though I don’t think it will come by way of a pretzel.

How, in particular, do I know who is buying neujahrsbrezel? The box is a dead giveaway. Most people who leave the bakery carry either a small waxed bag or a square box. The pretzel is large, decidedly so.

A young woman in bright yellow rain boots is leaving the bakery right now. She has a stack of three pretzel boxes and then a smaller bakery box. The woman has to look around the side of the top box to see where she’s going but her smile is bright. She’s looking forward to whatever event those pretzel boxes are going to.

The diner next to the bakery is packed to the doors with customers. Some are waiting under the overhang, trying not to get wet. When the door opens, clown-car-esque, a hoard of people spill out and the external group squeezes inside.

As I’m watching the diner, Chocolate Moose, the dog, not the candy store, walks up to the coffee shop with a tall, older man. After the man ties the dog to the bike rack outside, he enters the coffee shop. Since I’m sitting by the door, I ask if I can pet his dog, of course. The man is quick to tell me he’s just watching the dog for a friend. He’s flustered so I ask again if I can pet the dog. He says yes and calls to me as I go outside … “Chocolate Moose,” he says. “The dog’s name is Chocolate Moose.” 

And that’s how I find myself squatting in the rain beside Moose, scratching behind his ears. He’s a sweet young chocolate lab (of course), enjoying the rain and puzzled about why the walk has paused in front of this store. 

Technically, dogs are allowed to enter the coffee shop to get their puppuccinos but Moose is not very well-behaved. I’d call him overly loving. That’s why he’s sentenced to sit outside. He doesn’t understand why he can’t go up to every single individual in the coffee shop to ask for pets. That confuses me too because … DOG. Anyway, my day can continue joyfully now that I’ve spent a solid five minutes in the drizzle with Moose.

I hope your 2022 included a Chocolate Moose equivalent and that your 2023 introduces many of the same.

Happy New Year!

Much love.