Suits Me Sitting

“Willie!  Willie!”  That’s what Ruben Blades yells out to Willie Colon on “La Maleta” from “Metiendo Mano” album. “Willie, Willie!”  “I’d like to have a woid with you, sir.”  Today, we kick the Willie Nelson theme music.  Well, Bill Hardman anyway.  After three weeks of happily rising and falling in my own bed, I am ‘on the road again.'  Catchy theme.  Sitting here at the front lines of the turf war between Starbucks and Costa Coffee on the plains of Verdun:  the trenches of the Beijing Capital Airport.  This was a Starbucks when it opened.  I wrote about this spot and a craving for tuna fish in a manuscript I wrote three years back.  If location is everything this is the spot, right after check-in, right before security.  Debatable though.  Across the way is what should be the obvious complement to this space that is a vacuum occupied by “Lei’s” cafe, which I’d only visit if everything else is closed.

Two years back Starbucks ceded ground and this suddenly turned into a Costa Coffee.  I don’t like their espresso as much.  Their juices were larger but the food was less to my liking.  The environment was a different version of dark and compromised.  Whatever. Many times I visited that joint and sat right here, watching the traffic go by, writing. If you wanted Starbucks before you checked in, you needed to go downstairs to arrivals.

Six months back the line of the trenches yielded and the Costa was shuttered.  “Coming Soon Starbucks.”  Rabbit Season, Duck Season!  Shultz or someone had determined that this was must-have real estate.  Who knows what they charged to make Costa yield and Starbucks surge forward?  But here we are.  And they have invested heavily and turned out a notably hip upgrade with no windows and an open air feel, that suits me, sitting here once again. 

Down to Shanghai.  Middle seat.  Can’t wait.  Short sleeves.  It would be worse if I were in the U.S.  Here I’ll almost certainly be the only one with big hairy arms.  Rubbing bear arms with a stranger is repulsive.  But rubbing hairy arms with a stranger is unendurable.  “Ms.!  Blanket!!”  I’ve timed it all so I can now plow over to the “I’m late, accommodate me.” security line.  It’s 6:59AM here and the place, as China generally tends to be, is packed.