Bittersweet Juxtaposition

Today, I met Todd. Today, my perspective on social media shifted.

As I walked toward Grand Brew on Mt. Washington's Shiloh St. to interview Abbey Reighard, I wasn't sure what I expected to find. Most coffee shops that I had been to in Pittsburgh had a modern, hipster-like vibe, where the atmosphere spoke of both hard work and of purposeful relaxation. When I opened the door to Grand Brew and faced five older men with cups of black coffee in their hands and a look of wise exhaustion on their face, I knew that this place wasn't like any other Pittsburgh coffee shop I experienced before.

My first thought? I don't think this place is going to have any wifi.

I went to the counter to order a cappuccino, deciding against my normal black coffee for something a little different. As I pulled out my debit card to pay, the man behind the counter spoke.

"Sorry, we take cash only." I fumbled through my wallet, kicking myself for not looking this up prior to coming.

"I'm sorry, nevermind then."

"No, it's okay." He smiled at me. "You can just pay next time you're in."

"Thank you so much, I really appreciate it."

"Actually, is it your first time here?" I nodded. "Don't worry about it, the first one is on us."

"Thank you. What's your name?"

"Todd."

"Hi, Todd. I'm Cheyenne."

After our introduction, Todd and I started talking about why I was in Grand Brew. As I told him about my project on navigating hyperconnectivity, he expressed that he was not on social media. Not for Grand Brew, not for himself. He specifically spoke about the reviews that people would leave on sites like Yelp and how they didn't always accurately represent his establishment, especially if someone was having a bad day.

"Last year we had some really negative reviews, and it was our most successful year yet. I don't even look at the reviews."

He then chuckled to himself and asked me if I had a phone like this before as he reached behind the wall and pulled a corded telephone out.

"It's got a 40 ft. cord on it so it'll reach all corners of the coffee shop." Sometimes, that's all you need.

Once I sat down at a tall table by the counter and opened my laptop, it didn't feel right to use technology in a place that seemed to do just fine without it. The atmosphere of the place didn't speak "Sit down, focus, work hard, and accomplish something," but rather "Take a seat, slow down, give yourself a moment to breathe, and recognize the power of this moment." So instead of typing my notes as I interviewed Abbey, I copied the interview questions onto a sheet of notebook paper, powered down my laptop, and tucked it away in my backpack. There is a time and place for technology, but it wasn't now and it wasn't here.