Belonging to a Place and a People

I have the kind of friends they make sitcoms about. The kind of friends that make you ugly cry/laugh when you’ve had a bad day. The kind that you can go to church with in the morning and drink gin with at night. The kind that know about your past and still like you. The kind that will help you move—more than once. The kind that feel more like family than anything else.


I’ve known a few of my close friends since childhood, but most of my favorite people came into my life at a very specific time—and place.


The place was called Signs of Life. It was a coffee shop/bookstore/art gallery where I worked for a couple of years when I was in college. It was the epicenter of a friendship boom that was unlike anything I’ve seen before