When I began this here blog I was never to be found in coffee shops. This had much to do with the fact that I did not drink coffee, but there were additional influences that included a cynicism with the clientele that went beyond healthy and fell into the category of disdain. As much fun as it is to write off huge chunks of the population without getting to know any of them, even that can get old. And since I am quite certain my physical appearance invites the ire of many onlookers sometimes you've got to judge not lest ye be judged.
For this past year the coffee house really has become my good friend. I have a special place in my heart for The Noble Tree. As it describes, it is a three-story old brownstone, and the folks that work there are all excellent humans. Or they were the last time I checked, as now that I have shifted neighborhoods I cannot make it out there with the frequency I would prefer. If I ever become a published author I will go back and leave them better tips. The other establishments I shall make mention of are houses, but only The Noble Tree was my home.
What I dug, and dig, about The Noble Tree was its very unpretentious nature. Sometimes I think it is pretentious of me to call things pretentious because I can't possibly know about all whether their talents be real or illusory. Affecting greater knowledge than one has, you know? This goes back to ideas of cynicism and jadedness and I had better stop. But certainly both Filter and The Wormhole fit the bill if you are someone that uses that p-word. The latter features a Delorean inside as well as a working original NES. The verbiage of their blog might be a bit much to take as well. But oh shit, if you don't like it, you don't have to go. I do like it, both of them, and Alliance Bakery as well. And the people that work at all of them? Jolly and delightful.
See I have this little dream to one day have a coffee house of my own. In the evenings it will be a bar and it will host all sorts of events because that is the shit that really matters. So I keep that little dream around and even if I can't live it I kind of put part of it into some writing that may never see the light of day but if you don't think it can happen, what's the gosh darn point?
This post got a little more fruit-tastic than I was expecting, but I didn't really have specific intentions when I began writing, it just seemed as if the time was write. You know what's not right? That I think I have to point out that last typo was intentional. It's a bit of assholery I can't escape from. Will they know? Will they get the joke? Maybe my joke is the problem.
But shoot, my dream of having a normally functioning knee once again is slowly becoming a reality so fingers and toes are crossed and wood is being knocked upon, which makes typing a challenge of sorts but it is worth it. What I can't seem to cross is paths with Jenny Lewis. I think we'd get along great, so long as I don't run into Lindsay first.
And now I know this is my blog, but really that's quite enough about me. Keep [r]eating, I'll see you 'round...
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