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Two People Journaling on Paper in a Wi-Fi World

On Wednesday, I sat down next to a woman in the Starbucks at 78th and Lexington facing the window looking out. The Manhattan Starbucks are all so crowded that you have to sit next to someone. I took the one seat that was left at the window, grateful to get a seat because earlier in the week I had spent one lunch period squatting down leaning against a wall in another Starbucks, waiting for a seat while my feet fell asleep and tingled like crazy. The woman was feverishly journaling in a notebook, exactly the thing I had also intended to do during my lunch hour there too. I journal on a black steno pad that I carry around with me most of the time. I was wearing UPS browns, taking a break from training a new helper on how to deliver packages. Since it is New York, no one seemed to think it strange that a UPS guy was journaling on his steno pad. I can't remember ever seeing a man journaling anywhere, let alone a man wearing a UPS uniform as I was. But everyone just pretty much leaves you be in New York, even guys journaling while wearing UPS browns. So there we sat, side by side, two complete strangers journaling on paper with ink pens. In this laptop/notebook wi-fi, iPhone/SmartPhone high-tech age, I'm sure we looked ridiculous writing on paper, probably akin to seeing two people with mullets sitting next to each other. Just two weeks earlier at another Manhattan Starbucks, I had sat next to a woman who did a live video chat with her boyfriend. But there we were, right out in front of everybody, shamelessly journaling on paper.

I thought several times about striking up a conversation with her about her journaling, but I didn't know how to get started. I thought of a few things I might say.
“Aaaahem. Notice what I'm doing here too?” No, that sounds stupid.

“Yeah, I've found journaling sure is a lot cheaper than therapy. How about you?” Maybe she really is in therapy and would be offended.

“Do you type your journal notes into a computer?” I'd really like to know if she has piles of notebooks like I have that she has written in but hasn't had time to type into the computer.

But she was writing so intently and covering most of the words that trailed on the page with her hand that I didn't say a word to her. It seemed as though she was getting a load of emotion out of her system—at least four handwritten pages—and I didn't think I should disturb her. Then she jumped up and was gone in a flash. She didn't even have a latte, frappucino or hot chocolate. Nothing. She just came into Starbucks and started writing for the better part of an hour, and then left.

I journaled too, but sipped on a hot chocolate and looked out of the window in between thoughts. This is about as much multitasking as I can manage to do.

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