Overheard, Madison Park Edition

Here in Seattle my local—one of them, anyway—is a Starbucks in a tony neighborhood. It’s one of those upper middle class enclaves where all the women are fit and on their way to tennis while all the men are distinguished and coming back from golf. Although we are near downtown and well within city limits, it looks like a Connecticut suburb here. (Not that there’s anything wrong with that.) Needless to say, what I overhear here is different than in Jersey City or Columbus Circle.

This morning, a man in his forties slumped down into a chair, setting a roll of blueprints on the table. Two others joined him, then, a woman in her fifties in a tennis skirt. Tennis’ husband started explaining to architect and contractor why his blood pressure was boiling. Slumpy guy began his rebuttal with, “In my defense, and I’m not being defensive”: never a good sign. In short, it was a riveting, distracting trainwreck.

I was relieved when they left and tan man in golf shirt offered a friendly greeting to young puppy in a polo shirt. Imagine my alarm, then, when tan man says, “So, where are the electrical plans?”

“They are being drawn up at this very minute, let me assure you…”

On the East Coast, Dave is weighing in on the whole issue of overseeing and working in public, too.