Friends and dogs

7.4.1. Friends and dogs

I visited the coffee bar for the first time one day in November at a quarter past two:

It is nearly empty, with only a few customers. However, this is only to be expected during the hours between lunch and dinner; I find a place at the window, order a coffee and cake, and find some newspapers. A young boy comes in; he is perhaps between 18 and 20 years old. He orders a cup of regular black coffee, and goes outside once he has been served – even though it is about zero degrees and rather chilly. He finds a chair, lights a cigarette,

and sips his coffee. A dog approaches him; a noisy small dog; from my position at the window, I can see that the dog and the man know each other.

After some hugging and playing, the dog licks him in the face and the boy seems to enjoy it. A tall skinny girl in her twenties shows up, obviously the dog’s owner. The dog seems equally interested in her, and after an

enthusiastic meeting between the dog and girl, she gives the boy a hug too.

They are obviously friends, but there is not enough intimacy in their communication to look upon them as a couple, but what do I know? She enters the coffee bar, goes to the counter, orders a double latte, chats with the barista, and once it is served in a tall glass, she takes it with her back outside.

After ten or fifteen minutes a woman turns up. She is obviously older than the other two, perhaps in her mid-thirties. The dog, in the same

overwhelming fashion, also welcomes her. She also goes inside, picks up a double latte and moves outside again. The three of them now arrange their chairs around the table so they can sit opposite each other. They talk and laugh a lot. The girl with the dog is the main talker. The boy smokes intensively; the woman is a little more relaxed than the other two; she seems more at ease and probably is; age gives her a gravity the others do not have.

They are in my opinion a little lightly dressed for the weather; the girl seems to be freezing, but shows no intention of going inside. In the meantime, another customer has arrived and found a table outside. He is dressed for the weather conditions: he has a thick down jacket, hat, scarf and gloves. He is probably in his late-forties, with a rather large, bearded face. He nods at them, they nod back, and the young boy says something I can’t hear, but they all laugh a little.

The above describes the scene on my first visit to the coffee bar, Evita, in Smalgangen in Grønland, Oslo. I decided to come back and observe more. In the next three months I was there on a regular basis, sometimes several times a day. I became the regular “chronicler”, and I soon got to know people:

Eleven days after I first visited Evita I was sitting outside, drinking coffee, occasionally exchanging a sentence or ten with the neighboring table. I had got to know the young boy, Kjell; the girl with the dog, Ingun; and the woman Anne, who was more reticent. They hang out at Evita because they like to meet and talk most days, early in the day; Ingun said:

I have to walk Gisell (the dog), and somehow we’ve made it into a routine, to meet here, since we all work at home; we don’t call, or arrange anything, but we all manage to meet here.

Well that’s not really true; I’ve known Anne for… let’s say five years, but it’s only through our meetings here at Evita that we’ve developed a closer friendship.

Anne, Ingun and Kjell all work on their own. Ingun is a translator; Kjell operates a web studio; and Anne is a graphic designer. During the last two years they have created a daily routine, a routine that their work is adapted to.

Their life is interwoven into this routine; their daily experiences, ways of thinking, understanding of the world and their own environment is colored by their mutual discourse on the big questions in life and by their understanding of their own roles and contexts. Kjell, Ingun and Anne are connected through this space; the six outdoor tables function as their social roundabout. They are visible as a social unit.

However, there are also other people who use the coffee bar for social contact, but in a more specific and perhaps more instrumental way. Helle, a hairdresser, who lives in the neighborhood, appreciates the coffee bar’s ability to be a place where new friendships can be tested and matured:

A coffee bar is a perfect place to meet, especially when people don’t know exactly where you live. And it’s also much less intimate than your own apartment. And having a coffee also makes conversation a little easier; I mean, you can say things like: “What kind of coffee do you prefer? I always drink double latte, but lately I have started to develop a preference for cortado. You see?

Caroline is another regular – she is in her mid-thirties and she also uses the coffee bar for many different purposes; both for spending time in solitude and for social situations:

It’s really an easy place to meet; it’s a kind of public living room. It’s extremely practical when you don’t want to invite people to your home. And it’s also inexpensive, which matters of course.

Caroline said that this is only the case when you meet a single person. If you meet a lot of friends then this seldom appeals:

I think it has to do with the space; you seldom get a table in the coffee bar, except when you’re sitting outside. If you’re sitting at a window, then two persons is the maximum number if they want to talk to each other.

For Caroline the coffee bar is helpful also in situations when a friendship is in its beginning stages. Olga has a similar view:

It is a form of ritual, or a thing you do together with others, also with people you consider as close friends. And if it’s new acquaintances, then the coffee bar is a nice place to deepen that relationship in shaping it towards a more real friendship.

This understanding suggests the notion that the coffee bar, to a high degree, can be interpreted and experienced as a room that shares many qualities with private rooms. It is a room for intimacy, close relationships, quiet

communication, and noisy chatting between friends and acquaintances.