Yesterday, I needed to make a trip to my favorite local coffee proprietor, as I was out of ground beans. Set inside a yellow steel shop building in the bustling little burg of Athol, Idaho is a small market, a chiropractor, and Careywood Coffee Company.
I've written about CCC before, and it's a great little joint. I love supporting local shops, it's what's cool about being a part of any community big or small. They bring in coffee beans from around the world and roast them. I've gotten coffee from small family owned farms in Peru, Mexico, and my favorite so far, Bali.
On most days that I pop in for a lovely little espresso and a bag of ground beans, there are very few souls inside the shop, usually just the barista and another customer. Yesterday the place was packed, and it was in the corner by the roasting machine that I my eyes spotted him, Theodore Roosevelt reincarnated.
A man was sitting with his legs crossed in the chair, his entire persona a caricature from another time. On his feet were some custom leather boots, like the kind my dad used to have corked and wear in the bush logging. These ones though were not out of the box boots, they were posh. Aside from the boots being fine, I saw that the well-dressed soul wearing them had tied his strings fancily around the top and had TUCKED HIS PANTS IN HIS BOOTS! Blasphemy.
As my eyes took in more of this fantastic creature, I saw a dove grey wool beret resting on his stone colored pants. He was wearing a cream colored shirt and a khaki sport coat. The man's hair was perfectly coiffured and his face was adorned with a magnificently trimmed and WAXED mustache of the likes that Hercule Poirot would be proud of.
Now my friends, Athol is not cosmopolitan by any degree. the majority of it's inhabitants are rednecks, transplants, and preppers. We're talking down to earth, let's go to the bar and have a beer folks. I mean, while I was standing there waiting for my coffee an old dude with a MAGA hat came in and chatted with the barista about how he had sighted in his new .357 magnum that morning.
So, to see a creature who looked like a stylized version of a character from The Night At The Museum knocked me off of my axis a bit, I smiled and blurted to the barista,
Sitting in the corner of the coffee shop were three, twenty-something men who looked like throwbacks to the beginning of the previous century. It killed me to not ask them their story. I mean, what were they doing in Athol of all places? They looked like they were dressed for a pheasant hunt at Downton Abbey. Didn't they know that tucking your pants into your boots wasn't really necessary in North Idaho, and that their boots were the most unpractical footwear to don for a foray into the woods in these parts? Were they turkey hunters? Sasquatch researchers? To say that I was curious is an understatement.
And furthermore, even though they were spectacularly dressed, I sensed no arrogant demeanor emanating from the trio. As someone who has grew up in rural but majestic places, I've seen the arrogant tourist routine a time or two. One time my brother and I were even called peasants by a Bostonian matriarch and her family when they disembarked their cruise ship in Ketchikan to stroll the town. We had fun with that group.
But I digress. Another fascinating detail is that pale pallor of all the men. None of them were outdoorsmen, as their overall coloring was that of a person who spends far too much time indoors and under artificial lighting. Everything about them screamed we don't leave the pavement which derailed me every time I looked at their magnificent boots. I'm not kidding, those boots were more than my grocery budget for two months and there wasn't a speck of dirt on them.
However, as they all stood to leave, I smiled as they passed, for their presence made my day have even more mirth and wonder as it usually does, for I got to sit and sip a lovely cup of coffee and wonder what sort of wondrous thing I'm going to spy in my community next!
Now, Kat a pale pallor and pristine boots could have just have meant that you were looking well-healed Canadian COVID Shut-In refugees. I laugh but cry too.
Love to be be able to visit the Careywood Coffee Company, one day. Sound wonderful. I will be sure to wear my Sunday best ... maybe a tiara:)
Oh no! I was just doing a bit of sub-amateur deduction, and it never occurred to me that the suave souls could be decked out visitors from the Northlands!
And if you wear your tiara I will wear my purple overalls and baling twine scrunchies, we'll be a sensation:)
That's the thing about living in a city that's a tourist's hub. You get to see all kind of characters, some are weird and others are just funny.
I once went on a holiday in such a city here in Nigeria, and my cousins and I had a great time. Not just because of the place, but also because of the people we found there.
And with your description, coming over to the CCC might not be a bad idea😊
Oh the CCC is just loaded with charm! If you like people watching and local culture gazing, it's definitely a place to check out!
That said, a holiday in a large city in Nigeria sounds spectacular, I can only imagine the things you got to see!
For now, i'm only a fan of culture gazing. I love learning more about different cultures, and watching them live.
And Nigeria is indeed one of the countries with the most diverse cultures.
Thank you.
It's always interesting to run into a pack of hipsters in the wild. The encounters can run the gambit from outrageous to benign with the latter sounding like this one. All the work and effort has to be displayed, like peacocks casually displaying their fan, at least they weren't as loud as peacocks.
I think that's what made this particular encounter even more odd, is they weren't trying to draw attention to themselves beyond their plumage, lol! It definitely made my day for sure:)
Plumage, thank you, that's the word I was searching for.
Perhaps they were part of some cosplay group?