No Crying Over Spilled People

On our very first date, after a delightful meal at Phoebe’s Restaurant & Coffee Lounge, Katey and I went in for a hug to end the evening. What resulted: My person stumbling forward, arms outward and tilted, the expression on my face was contorted enough to signify a sense of panic in that second.

What was that? — she asked. I replied.

I replied, telling her I tripped over the bike rack. She didn’t believe me at first but saw the sidewalk fixture when the view was clear. It’s been an inside joke ever since, but I can say I fell for her the first time we went out.

At Café at 407, in Liverpool, NY, last weekend, it was a similar story. However, a different twist.

Katey’s friend and trainer out for a nice, light, healthy brunch. Of course, whenever we go anywhere there is someone we’re bound to know. This time it was one of my favorite community colleagues, Micha.

She and I have known each other for about five years, dating back to my start at Syracuse New Times, where we both were freelancers — she paid and me not so much. Now, she focuses her attention on enriching Central New York culture with the Syracuse Contemporary Irish Film Festival.

Katey and Micha were briefly chatting when I decided to take a step back and sit.

I’m a firm believer that time slows down in moments of panic, desperation, or when hell breaks loose. When I backed up to sit down and didn’t feel the chair beneath me, the moment went all Matrix-y. When that uh-oh set in faster than a finger snap, my eyes widened. Out of natural response, both of my arms extended to brace my person. Unfortunately, the table wouldn’t hold most of the weight and the chair wasn’t in a prime position to help out in any method.

Katey and Mischa were just beginning to chat with each other when this happened. The expressions on their faces were of priceless panic.

I wasn’t the only thing that fell. The coffee that was on the table, the one in the medium-sized cup, toppled with the table. Like paper towel commercials, in slow and glob-esque fashion the contents of the cup spilled up and outward. The contents spilled out onto the floor and into my bag, but not to the point of damaging my laptop.

Aside from being able to recollect every half second of my travels to the floor, the most amazing thing was Café 407 going dead silent. Everyone looked over, of course, but the atmosphere was silenced. It wasn’t that no one had seen that happen before, and perhaps there were a couple or a few who had not, but the comical, as-seen-on-TV or in film scene that played out in real life was astonishing.

We were able to enjoy our brunch after the scene. I enjoyed my coffee and breakfast sandwich, which consisted of Leihs and Steigerwald sausage, New York cheddar, and a soft, house-made biscuit. All this does pair well with coffee from Recess Coffee.

Café at 407 Egg Sandwich and Recess Westcott Blend coffee. [Photo by C. Malone]

Simplicity is bliss. Locally sourced food is bliss. Great causes are bliss.

Café at 407 supports the work and mission of Ophelia’s Place, a local nonprofit that raises awareness and educates about body awareness and eating disorders. To supplement their efforts with community involvement, they’ve created initiatives such as The Every Body is Beautiful Project. This is the tip of the iceberg of descriptions, of course, and you can learn more and donate to the links provided.

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