I am a nomad, of sorts

By Marina Knight

There is a fragile-looking girl sitting in front of me putting on make-up. She’s wearing a hot pink shirt and she has bleach-blonde hair and for the life of me I can’t figure out why this is necessary behavior in a café.
A loud family of four with visiting in-laws just vacated the table next to me. Their sandwich remnants still linger on the table and people around them glance down as if they’re going to jump off the table and into their latte.
Bob Marley, then some offbeat indie-pop song blares though the speakers and it’s raining hard outside.
This is the scene at Darwin’s café in Cambridge, Mass.
For the past four days, it’s been my office. Sometimes, I snag a seat on the large, yet horribly unsupportive, couch and sometimes I slide into a chair at one of the communal tables. Today, my timing was just right and I am sitting at a small table all my own. This little piece of real estate is a serious score and I have staked out my belongings, iPod, cell phone, small black notebook, pen and iced tea to let people know that I will be here for the afternoon.
The place has its downfalls, grungy bathroom, semi-weak coffee, just a tad-too-loud music, but it has free wi-fi, air conditioning and I think most other people in here are working, too.
This week I have been web commuting. At first I thought I was telecommuting, but it turns out I am not. That term is not only outmoded, I learned, it is too vague. Plus, telecommuting was what people did when the phone was the main means of communication. Now we use the web. It was important to make this distinction at the beginning of the week, and to mete out the varied nuances of working from away early.
The work I have done this week can also be classified as “nomad working.” It’s not quite as easy as it sounds, especially in a new town. I’ve gone through a fair number of possible work places and only a few allow me to get work done.
On day one, I walked down to the Cambridge public library only to discover that it’s closed for total renovation. I was sent to a high school gym, where I sat for a few hours. It was hot out and there was no AC and the kids reading circle was a bit out of control, so that locale was canned.
I tried working at Pete’s Coffee, the coffee being the obvious bonus, it had AC and wi-fi but there was way too much turnover, giving the place a restless feel. I found it hard to concentrate. On reflection it may have been the triple shot of espresso that caused my jittery feeling.
Darwin’s is just right, even when it’s a bit crowded. There is a different vibe to feed off than the normal office vibe. Some people are writing in journals, others are totally tuned out and focused on what looks like heavy research and an older man just behind me is editing photos. One of the coffee baristas just played Dee Jay, dedicating a song to us. Michael Jackson’s Billy Jean was our gift.
If the experience has taught me anything (the ability to block out crying children, working in a semi-chaotic environment and methods of caffeine regulation aside) it is that work is something you do, not something you travel to.