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I was once taken to task by an acquaintance for suggesting she might have gone into Starbucks. As in, "I would never go to Starbucks" (spoken in tones of horror). Because Starbucks is a chain, and chains are, like, evil. In the great world of Evil, there are likely gradients or outer circles, and all things considered, I don't think Starbucks is as evil as, say, Enron. Or BP. But it's a chain, and some people disapprove of that.
When possible, I do try to patronize the Mom n' Pop joints, because they're there and it's hard to make a go of a concern like a coffee shop, even in a city like San Francisco. But I wrote two books at various Starbucks in New York--the people there were always cheery and polite and kept the coffee coming, and they allowed me to sit there for 1-4 hours without calling the cops to roust me out. I appreciate that. Starbucks is okay by me.
These days I mostly patronize Pebbles, a neighborhood sandwich-and-coffee shop ruled by Sheena and Kate, two lovely Korean women with the sort of ageless prettiness that some Asian women get to have, and a cheery, upbeat attitude. (It was Sheena who I terrified last week by fainting...when I went in the next day she was so happy to see that I had sustained no lasting damage!) I like Pebbles because the people are nice, the coffee's okay (Starbucks is better) and they don't mind if I camp out there for 3-4 hours. Across the street is Café Bello, run by a lovely couple (Vietnamese, I think, but I could be wrong about hat). The only reason I don't spend more time there is 1) they keep the door open regardless of weather, and I get cold, and 2) their coffee is over-roasted for my taste.
Today I was out doing pre-party chores, and stopped to get a cup of coffee because: needed it so much. So I went into an independent coffee shop (I would not call this place a Mom n Pop joint because it was much too earnestly cool to be associated with anyone's parents). I was not cool enough for this place. I asked for a medium coffee. Maybe I would have been made to feel less antiquated, unhip, and unwelcome if I'd ordered a double macchiato with some esoteric requirements (it has to be at 220° degrees, and made with yak milk). The last time I was condescended to so thoroughly was in Shakespeare and Company, the upper westside bookstore (now gone...wonder why) when I tried to order one of my old Regencies through them ("We don't order that kind of book," the co-ed at the desk informed me).
So I'm not cool enough for some coffee shops (I noticed that there were no mothers with prams, no fathers buying a cookie for the kid on the way to whatever-practice, no elderly types like myself--the place seemed to be populated exclusively by slender people with dreadlocks, tattoos, strange patchy beards, or arcana that hinted at an Eastern religion). Maybe this place thrives on the kind of clientele they have, and doesn't want anyone else's business. The way they're going, they won't get it. So everyone should be happy, and next time I'll go to Starbucks.
When possible, I do try to patronize the Mom n' Pop joints, because they're there and it's hard to make a go of a concern like a coffee shop, even in a city like San Francisco. But I wrote two books at various Starbucks in New York--the people there were always cheery and polite and kept the coffee coming, and they allowed me to sit there for 1-4 hours without calling the cops to roust me out. I appreciate that. Starbucks is okay by me.
These days I mostly patronize Pebbles, a neighborhood sandwich-and-coffee shop ruled by Sheena and Kate, two lovely Korean women with the sort of ageless prettiness that some Asian women get to have, and a cheery, upbeat attitude. (It was Sheena who I terrified last week by fainting...when I went in the next day she was so happy to see that I had sustained no lasting damage!) I like Pebbles because the people are nice, the coffee's okay (Starbucks is better) and they don't mind if I camp out there for 3-4 hours. Across the street is Café Bello, run by a lovely couple (Vietnamese, I think, but I could be wrong about hat). The only reason I don't spend more time there is 1) they keep the door open regardless of weather, and I get cold, and 2) their coffee is over-roasted for my taste.
Today I was out doing pre-party chores, and stopped to get a cup of coffee because: needed it so much. So I went into an independent coffee shop (I would not call this place a Mom n Pop joint because it was much too earnestly cool to be associated with anyone's parents). I was not cool enough for this place. I asked for a medium coffee. Maybe I would have been made to feel less antiquated, unhip, and unwelcome if I'd ordered a double macchiato with some esoteric requirements (it has to be at 220° degrees, and made with yak milk). The last time I was condescended to so thoroughly was in Shakespeare and Company, the upper westside bookstore (now gone...wonder why) when I tried to order one of my old Regencies through them ("We don't order that kind of book," the co-ed at the desk informed me).
So I'm not cool enough for some coffee shops (I noticed that there were no mothers with prams, no fathers buying a cookie for the kid on the way to whatever-practice, no elderly types like myself--the place seemed to be populated exclusively by slender people with dreadlocks, tattoos, strange patchy beards, or arcana that hinted at an Eastern religion). Maybe this place thrives on the kind of clientele they have, and doesn't want anyone else's business. The way they're going, they won't get it. So everyone should be happy, and next time I'll go to Starbucks.