By Caron Schwartz
Of all the familial traits I inherited – mother’s hair, father’s eyes – the shopping gene looms large. My sisters have it too. Shopping does not imply buying. It’s window shopping, chatting with strangers, petting dogs, trying on shoes you have no intention of taking home, and enjoying a little cafe life. Buying, as everyone knows, is best done online.
Recently, I had an appointment in Tampa where recreational shopping abounds. International Mall is high-end fun. Westshore Plaza, mid-range, similar to St. Pete’s Tyrone Square. I settled on Hyde Park Village; a historic neighborhood dotted with upscale shops. The narrow streets and brick storefronts remind me of the downtown of my childhood (until so-called “Urban Renewal” of the 1960s replaced the charm with a parking garage and ring road).
The windows range from the usual suspects – like Anthropology and lululemon – to the fun – like Downtown Dogs and Little Words Project – with every manner of posh beauty bar and eatery imaginable. Instead of shoes, I tried on way-out-of-my-league hats at Coastal Cowgirls Collective. The friendly stranger relaxing on a comfy chair in front of West Elm had an even friendlier dog that didn’t give me a sniff before stretching out to invite a tummy rub.
Neither of the tiny tastes of Coffee Crunch or Sea Salt Pistachio at Oddfellows Ice Cream tickled my taste buds enough for the calories. So for the requisite coffee break, I gave Capital One Cafe a try. I immediately recognized the cappuccino machines behind the counter, but “Where’s the bank?” I asked the guy who greeted me as I walked in. “This is the bank,” he said. Then I noticed his Capital One-branded polo. The banker explained the relaxed financial services concept, then I scooted down the hall to use the facilities. When I returned to order, the barista told me he had comped my beverage, a Cherry Vanilla Matcha Latte. Outside on a bench, I sipped and people watched. Now that’s my kind of bank/cafe.