November 3, 2011 § 24 Comments
I’ve had a long-time propensity towards working in coffee shops. Ever since my crash course in coffee drinking many summers ago in Norway. (I went from drinking cream and sugar with a splash of coffee to drinking plain coffee, black, in the span of about 3 days, thanks to the merciless teasing of my dear uncle. Except for the occasional cappuccino, I’ve never looked back.)
I sit, along with the many other denizens of Laptopistan, titrating my caffeine while hammering through work. Were it 300 years ago, we’d be inventing the stock exchange in London or fomenting revolution in France. Instead, what are we doing exactly? Blogging, I suppose! And dissertating, and consulting, and designing websites, and such and so.
In college, I was never able to study in the library. It always put me to sleep. So, instead I went and studied in the coffee shops. There were two options then, in the sleepy little agricultural town where I went to school. Not a Starbucks or Caribou Coffee in site.
One coffee shop skewed toward the granola, with fair trade coffee, decent organic baked goods, grating music, and dirty old couches. The other had unabashedly Midwestern coffee (i.e. on the weak side), but I loved to go there because it was decorated like a family kitchen. It was the kind of space where I felt comfortable staying for hours.
Like the coffee, the food belonged in a church basement. But, the names always made me laugh.