Coffee-Talk

His thick-framed glasses, nose ring, gauged ears, Minnesota Northstars snap-back, peat-coat, scarf, skinny jeans and Converse All-Stars don’t surprise me at all. What surprises me is his voice. I’d seen pictures of him – I knew what to expect in that arena – but I didn’t expect his voice to be so deep, soothing, and, well, learned. I imagine all the things he would teach me, if only I was his student. Would I be so wise, I wonder?
I get over myself and tap him on the shoulder. “Hi, Chris? My name’s Trevor Kelly. I’m a huge fan,” I tell him.
He doesn’t look up immediately. His fingers are tapping furiously. It looks like he’s on Twitter. He’s seriously always on! How does he do it? If I could tweet half as fast as him, I’d go pro. When he finally realizes I was trying to introduce myself, holding my hand out for him to shake for what feels like an eternity, he apologizes fervently and asks me if I’d like to sit with him while we enjoy our coffee.
I don’t know what came over me, but I went absolutely and embarrassingly fan-boy on the guy, from his writings for the Huffington Post to his upcoming book, “(F)a(i)theist,” and how much I appreciated his article for Huffington Post Gay Voices entitled “Growing Up Queer.” My uncle is a Born-Again Christian, and I’ve always had difficulty understanding what made him turn away from Catholicism, I tell him, as if he cares. The thing is… I’m pretty sure he does.
He laughs, thanking me for taking the time to read what he said. I can feel his eyes on me as I mutter apologies under my breath. I’ve probably scared the poor guy away, I think, and I start to scold myself for it. He puts his hands on my shoulders, though, and I look into his eyes for what feels like the first time. The gentleness and compassion beyond his thick, hipster lenses tell me all I need to know.
Immediately, I understood it all. I understood that I haven’t been nearly a good enough Christian, and I’m not ashamed to have learned it from an atheist activist, even if in a Starbucks. The scene likely couldn’t have been more cliché, nor should it have been. I felt like he and I talked for hours, though it was in truth only one or two. He taught me that all of us, as human beings, owed it to each other to stand together in communion and community.
And you know what? I agreed.