Today I ordered lunch from my favorite coffee shop. I had the chicken salad sandwich on a croissant, with a side of fries. It came to just under $13, but I gave her $15 and told her to keep the change. Last weekend, when I ordered breakfast to go, the owner was there ... and two waitresses ... and the cook in the back. Today, I believe the cook was there alone.
Last year, when it was announced that our main street was going to be torn up during the summer of 2020, the coffee shop owner bemoaned the impact that would have on her business. Now she's going into summer after spending weeks with her dining room closed.
She works hard to run a good business. The food is made from scratch and sourced locally. Her waitstaff doesn't turn over, so she must take good care of them. I'm happy to support them.
Then there's the pizza place. It's kitty-corner from the coffee shop. I have to remember to order from them this week, too. Their food is fine, not as good as the coffee shop's. But they sponsor a little league team and I've seen the owner pay a homeless man to squeegee down the front door. I'm not forgetting that he gave me a "hero's discount" on my pizza for saving a kitten from under a nearby car. It's my turn to do something for him. I'll order a sandwich from them during the week.
These businesses are the heartbeat of my neighborhood. We're all in this together.
These are the thoughts and observations of me — a woman of a certain age. (Oh, my, God, I'm 65!) I'm single. I'm successful enough (independent, self supporting). I live just outside Chicago, the best city in the world. I'm an aunt and a friend. I feel that voices like mine are rather underrepresented online or in print. So here I am. If my musings resonate with you, please visit my blog again sometime.
I have been trying to order from local restaurants that I don't often frequent--because I take for granted that they'll always be there. I had Greek pizza from one place last night and it was delicious!
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