March 8th - The Ancient Cactus

I’m standing in the coffee shop, waiting for my latte with Austin. Today they were out of oat milk, so I tried out macadamia. For those interested, it did not disappoint, but I would still pick oat if I had the choice.

There’s one other man waiting for his coffee inside with us, standing in the opposite corner of the shop. I don’t really pay him much mind as Austin and I chat. Picking out plants for the house is one of our favorite coffee shop past times.

That one would look good in the front corner by the door. I say, nodding at a 6-foot tall leafy beauty.

Hm, I suppose, he says, but there aren’t any pitchers on it. This weekend we had perused a plant shop that had a carnivorous pitcher plant. Each leaf of the plant grew its own little pitcher, which you’re supposed to feed with water and fish food (ideally bugs, but fish food works as we aren’t living in the rainforest). Austin, obviously, hasn’t been able to stop talking about it.

This one though, he says, this one is my favorite.

He’s examining a cactus that he ogles quite literally every time we come to get coffee. It’s massive. At least 8 feet tall with probably 6 different individual vertical prickly strands that slowly wrap around each other, forming one big thick cactus. Its pot reads “Please don’t water me!”. It is pretty cool. I admit.

Did you know it’s over 100 years old?

Austin and I both turn around in surprise - both at the idea of a 100+ year old cactus just sitting here in the coffee shop and at a stranger offering a tidbit of knowledge to our conversation.

That’s crazy. Now he likes it even more. I say.

Austin laughs. It’s true. Definitely something appealing about a cactus that has seen some things.

The guy laughs appreciatively, and goes to grab his now-ready coffee. Have a good one, he says as he heads out the door.

I hadn’t realized until that moment how much I enjoy and miss being eavesdropped on - not in a creepy way, just in a kindly interested, friendly way. Can’t the world be normal again?