A Date with Schulers

Whenever my husband and I manage to find the time, money and a babysitter (the hardest part), we try to have a night out. We set a goal of once a month, but really it ends up being about once every three months. We always plan on dinner and a movie, but I can't tell you the last time we saw a movie together. In fact, I don't know why we bother looking in the paper at the movie listings. As we tally our bill at the restaurant, the conversation always goes like this:

"Ready to go to the movie?" Andy always asks.
"Oh, I don't know... I don't know if I feel like going to the movie anymore," I say, practically whining. Okay, I'm whining.
"Well, I'm not ready to go home yet," my husband says. Translated, this means, "The kids are probably still up."
"How about we go to Schulers for coffee?" Surprise, surprise. Why can't we just admit that this is what we were going to do all along?

Why Schulers, you ask? Anyone who has ever tried to browse for reading material at a bookstore or a library with young children understands. It is an impossible task. I end up chasing kids, dragging kids, reprimanding kids, holding kids, shushing kids, and pleading with kids, all while trying to look for something to read. The result is crabby kids, crabby mom, and a book I chose because the cover looked good. The only time browsing with preschoolers is fun is when you are looking for reading material for them.

So we head to Schulers and skip the movie. Again. But, this is the best part of the date. Even at dinner our conversations turn to the kids, bills, house repairs, and all the other stresses in our life. It is good that we have that quiet time at dinner to talk about these things, but we aren't relaxed. All that changes when we stroll the bookstore. I love going to Schulers. I love how I am surrounded by books before I even enter the store. As I walk through those first set of doors, tables of books envelope me, calling out to be touched, looked at, flipped through. This is my staging area -- a place where I can clear my head and get in the mood for books. It's a beautiful thing. I stay in this area until I feel my mind clearing of all problems, making room for words and pictures that lay ahead. When I am ready, sometimes with sale books tucked under my arm, sometimes not, I float through the second set of doors. This process is important. If I were to rush past this staging area, bursting through both sets of doors, I would be overwhelmed by all the choices. But, having cleared my mind, enjoying a book appetizer in the entryway, I am ready for this challenge.

Where should I begin? Should I browse the table covered with all the latest choices being read by area book clubs? I love to see what other people are reading and sharing. Ooh, maybe I will check out the new non-fiction. Or maybe I should start with the magazines. Oh, but I love browsing through all the cookbooks. The place is quiet, but not strict-quiet like a library. There is the sound of cups tapping saucers in the cafe', the buzz of people sharing book finds, mingling with the faintest sound of music coming from headphones as people listen to the latest offerings. I take a deep breath, taking in the smells of coffee, new books, and the perfume of readers.

At this point, I have no idea where Andy is. Not to worry, he doesn't need me. He is off in the reference section, looking for the latest marketing guru's advice. Then he will be somewhere in the mystery section. We have done this so many times; we know we will see each other again in the cafe', loaded down with our possibilities. We will share a dessert, some coffee, and our new book treasures. Then we will read silently together.