New Albany, Indiana, May 2026. Mickey’s is a little coffee shop across the river. It’s a rainy weekend and I’m looking for a place to do some writing so I decided to head over there.
It’s small but cozy and the walls lined with used books so passes the vibe check. Music not too loud with grungy second-hand furniture. I scoped out a spot that had decent feng shui. It was near the front door so there would be traffic but it was kind of in a corner so I could tuck in and work.
I got a flat white and a glass of water and was just getting ready to get started when this guy blew in from the street with no regard to the quiet zone I was trying to create. He plopped down on the couch opposite me. He was rough around the edges. Dirty clothes and fingernails. He seemed drunk or high or something. He was kindof zoned out. Our glances caught each other and he nodded and I nodded back. We were sitting directly opposite each other so it was hard to avoid some kind of acknowledgement.
He drifted in and out, closing his eyes and laying his head back. At one point he laid back on the couch as if to nap. You got the feeling that he had been out all night, or that he didn’t have a home and saw this as perhaps a warm place that he could land for a bit before heading back out to the street.
At first I was annoyed that this heavy presence had invaded my writing bubble. But after a few moments the feeling of compassion took precedence over the feeling of being annoyed. Look into the eyes, that will always activate compassion. Looking into the eyes you bypass all the superficial cues that give you a negative impression and it takes you straight to the person’s humanity and you see them as the miracle of life that they are, a sacred vessel of nature expressing itself, a mother’s son who was once a boy that laughed and played, who was once a young man who dreamed of possibilities. Whatever went wrong is a tragedy because at this point his trajectory is probably locked.
After a few more minutes one of the baristas came over and handed him some food, some kind of sandwich wrapped in foil. He made a thank you and she walked away. The whole exchange took about three seconds. This was a routine. He comes here for food and they give it to him. He doesn’t have to go up to the counter and ask or pay for it. He just shows up and they do the human thing.
Immediately after receiving the food he got up and left. There are moments of grace and light in this world.
Polyphonic 