Church of the Bean

Most every Sunday morning my friend and I meet for coffee at a local Barnes & Noble. We call it "secular church" or, alternately, "Church of the Bean." It does more good for my soul than most church services I have attended. The baristas know us so well that sometimes our order is already filled by the time we reach the counter. We are what you might call regulars. We aren't the only ones.
We see the same faces week after week. There is "hat man" and "Asian Lady that I know from someplace but can't remember" with her husband and mother, "Aging boomer couple," "suit man," etc. We all recognize each other on sight and sometimes exchange a nod or pleasantry, much as one would at a regular church. I ponder writing a book about all of us one day and creating intricate background stories for them. Nobody steal that idea!
My friend and I go all the way back to early childhood together. We have always been friends. No gaps. We know just about everything there is to know about each other. We share so much common history that we are big on reminiscing these days but will also talk about most anything under the sun. It's about the most positive time of my week and I sure look forward to it.
Church of the Bean grounds me (pun intended) for the rest of the week. It's my touchstone in time and space. It's a spiritual renewal and my cup runneth over.