Coffee Shop There is some waiting involved when visiting someone in prison. Check in a half-hour before visit time and get assigned a booth. Most times I wait in my car. This particular Sunday I was hungry as I forgot to eat breakfast. Luckily there is a Starbucks right across the highway from the jail. Plenty of time to grab a coffee and a bagel. The place was buzzing. Seats were filled with people, and tables covered with lattes and laptops. The line was long. I waited behind two young men. I took notice to them as they looked about my sons age. Both dressed nicely in faded designer jeans and nice looking sweaters. Clean-cut. There were chatting between themselves with a burst of laughter here and there. I wondered where they were going on this lovely Sunday morning. I guessed maybe shopping or a ball game. Since they ordered egg and cheese sandwiches I surmised they werent meeting up with friends for breakfast. They looked happy and burden free. I thought about my son. How I wished he could be living clean on the outside, going someplace like these two fellas. I thought about how different these boys were from us. My eavesdropping shed no light on their destination for the day. I arrive at the jail twenty minutes later. I walk in through the double door and squeeze around the people in front of me to hang my coat. As I slip back in line I notice whos waiting in line in front of me to proceed through the metal detector. Its the two boys from Starbucks. I guess were not so different after all. Jimmys Mom
Posted on: Sun, 18 Jan 2015 22:07:01 +0000
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