I have had to return to Oklahoma as a result of family responsibilities. I normally love my short forays home as it is where those I love the most live, where many of my happiest memories reside and the dirt roads and open prairie bring a familiarity that I only feel when returning to this part of the Country.
While the family, memories and familiarity are still prevalent in Commerce, this visit is different as it is a much longer trip than usual and the import of the situation overshadows the normally comfortable feelings of home.
Those of us who have moved to cities (or grew up in cities) understand the importance of anonymity and a $6 coffee. Anonymity doesn't exist in Commerce. I am made aware of who I am each time I leave my front door. Everyone at the bank, at Wal-Mart, at church wants to know how New York is, how my father is doing, to tell me how happy they are to see me. I can no longer forget who I am for a moment, to blend in to the machinery, I am forced to be conscious of self at all times and it's difficult.
As a result, this afternoon I drove 40 minutes to the nearest Starbucks. Not, because I love Starbucks, or even because I frequent them often in the city (I don't, I prefer Big Booty Bread's coffee), but because I thought that it would offer a taste of the city. Starbucks are universal and comfortable in a way that reminds me of a city (any city). The coffee is still $6 and the decor is the same as the Starbucks on 23/8, but it's not the haven I expected.
For one, this Starbucks has a drivethrough (a drivethrough Starbucks!!!). For another, as I watch people come in, I understand the concept of selling an image. People come here, because Starbucks has an image of city, of sophistication, of people who don't mind paying $6 for coffee. It was the reason I fled here to escape Commerce for a moment. But, it has left me feeling sad and duped. It isn't the city. I shouldn't have expected the city. It is the heartland and the people here have an openness and a loveliness that those of us in cities often find uncomfortable. And it was that openness, the inability to be anonymous that I was hoping to escape. I haven't.
