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| A flat white by James 'Santiago' Maclennan |
Plant something today that
will feed someone many months or many years from now. Plant something today,
because you’ve feasted on someone else’s carefully planted seeds, seeds that
bloomed into nourishment and kept you alive and wide-eyed. ~ Shauna Niequist
I’ll probably regret saying this the next time the work
schedule is emailed out, but I love opening Blend. Some staff say the 10-4
shift is the best, but the very best bits of a day happen in the morning.
A quiet, frosty walk from the bus stop past the Town Hall and
stony Queen Victoria. Frightened Rabbit blasting. Flaky croissants baking.
Taking chairs off of tables. Prayers for staff and customers. An offering of gratitude and peace. A prelude before the mess of today.
Always, always, always. Turn on the coffee machines first.
They take time to get ready. Stock the cake fridge. Put on the soup. Get things
in place. Pull shots. How’s the grinder dosing? Look, smell, taste. How’s the
crema? Can you taste the notes? Do the shots taste like cigarette ashes?
Secretly resent whoever messed with the grinder yesterday.
Eight ‘o’ clock begins it all. Commuters in for a standard
latte before the train. Upstairs employees in for cappuccinos and quick chats.
Regulars like Brian in to read the paper and stay long enough to finish 3 or 4
large Americanos. For each customer, we are creating today.
Existing somewhere between social service, faith community
and business, Blend’s definitions of currency and profit are a bit more fluid.
A smile. A good conversation. A consistently smooth flat white. A special latte
art. (Every shift is an unspoken latte art competition.) A good first impression. Love is in the details, and every detail is an
invitation, an investment. Today, we’ll earn a smile back. Next week, more of
their story. Next month, the right to share our own. A month or two
after that, an invitation to join our Sunday night get togethers.
We’ve been open in Paisley for six fantastic, hectic months
now, and already, we’re deeply loved. We proudly hold the title of
Renfrewshire’s Favourite Business. Yet people are still discovering us here at
25b Causeyside Street in what’s known as “the old Co-Op building”. While we’re
shaping Paisley’s present, this building built in 1910 ties us to the town’s past,
the roots of our customers. For the past 5 years, it’s been a bit abused and
neglected, that is until we began refurbishment and reclamation last June. Paisley’s
‘rivers in the wasteland’ style awakening – true biblical revival – isn’t just
spiritual. It’s also physical, economic, social, culinary, artistic, agricultural, etc.
We’re praying for this sort of holistic regeneration.
Right now though, it’s lunchtime. The staff collectively
double down into our systems as things intensify, hurling out coffees, soup,
paninis (Or is it panino?) and holding our breath until it slows. This is
usually when things hit the fan. There are no clean teaspoons. Someone, most
likely Naomi or me, smashes a glass cake stand or stack of porcelain plates. The
soup sells out, but no one tells the cashier who sells three more. Lunchtime
requires extraordinary grace.
Making this shop a sanctuary requires an abundance of grace
as well. Life flies past our windows, yet all the while, we welcome Paisley
into this home. Weary, hardworking folks like Saheed, one-shot, jaffa mocha
frappe guy from Mumbai who spends all day in university classes and all night
at work. Folks in transition like debonair Londoner Alistair who has
temporarily lived in Paisley for the past year looking after his elderly mum.
The world is manic and spinning, yet Blend stays constant, pulling more and
more chairs around the table.
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| A knitting club is beginning! PHOTO: Abbie McPherson |
Sometimes, we’re counsellors or social workers. People need
a safe place to work through their demons. Like the woman from a few weeks ago
who came to the shop to sober up and stayed until we phoned her a taxi, chatting hazy, gin-soaked circles around Gone With the Wind with me because Oklahoma equalled Georgia in
her mind. Blend slows you down and makes you focus too. Last month,
Gillian came in, journal in hand, determined not to leave until she’d decided
whether she and her husband would take the job offer in Portugal and start
their family there. This is a place for big life stuff.
It’s a lot of mundane stuff as well, but that matters too. Crafting
something wonderful takes practice and patience, like the cinnamon rolls I
still need to bake for Derrick. Relationships and community take repeated
investment, some more than others. Like Prischetta, the Italian stay-at-home
mum who gives nothing away, alpha female, indifferent, almost haughty. I feel
more like a frumpy American around her than anyone else. Her approval requires
major hustle. Or platinum blonde Jean who has been a regular since we opened
but always looks at me like I’m a creep for greeting her by name. They’re tough
cases to crack. |
| David got creative at our Christmas party. Photo: David Storer |
We’re slowly becoming a pick ‘n’ mix family though. We caffeinate study
sessions for students and celebrate with them too when university exams are
over, pass or fail. We visit Lindsey recovering from sepsis in the hospital. We
make sure Marnie gets a birthday card. We cheer on jazz guitarist and regular
Matt at Friday open mics. We wait for Tom and Maureen to come in for their
usual and to give us the latest update after each of her chemo treatments. We
can always count on Neil and Ianco for restaurant recommendations. We decorate
gingerbread men and watch Home Alone
after hours. We gush over the latest pictures of Francisco’s grandchildren even
though we can’t understand his Spanish, and he can’t understand our English. We’re
writing a grander, more significant story together.
Three ‘o’ clock signals a changing of the guard as the
opening staff leave and the closing staff come in. The day’s loose ends begin to come back together. First-timers usually think our customer service is
incredible. The truly incredible thing, though, is that how we treat customers
is only a shadow of how we treat each other. Our team is the most authentic
expression of what Blend is. We slag James off. Baby Pollock that’s kicking around
inside Cindy is going to have far too many aunties and uncles. We tell silly
jokes over dinner at Nate and Becky’s. If we can’t make this lifestyle,
culture, whatever, work among staff, anything beyond doesn’t matter. But we do
make it work. We bless, listen to, eat with, nurture, and dare each other first
and discover more than just a cool way to pay the rent. We find a slightly
dysfunctional yet absolutely wonderful second family.
So I guess, the bottom line is this – We really love coffee.
We really love Paisley and Scotland. And we truly believe in resurrection. Paisley’s
story is God’s story. We want to be a part of “making a way in the desert and
streams in the wasteland.”
As always, thanks for sharing in this journey with me.
“So, friends, every
day do something that won’t compute … Give your approval to all you cannot
understand … Ask the questions that have no answers. Put your faith in two
inches of humus that will build under trees every thousand years … Laugh. Be
joyful though you have considered all the facts … Practice resurrection.” ~ Wendell
Berry
