coffee shop

Raymundo
how you been? i'm in a very dark place...seriously, lots of clouds. there's a really cool coffee shop in walking distance. owned by a woodcarver, it's part art gallery part place to ingest caffeine while sitting on 60s? 70s? furniture of hues born of a color wheel that doesn't exist in college art courses (and perhaps with good reason). It's got a co-op vibe--when employee steps out for a smoke, customers take over barista responsibilities, which is ok bc there's no formal menu and Boss is an arthritic border collie, and she just don't give a shit. With dog hair on the couches and a fly in my steamed milk, i'm just waiting for the hint of a social cue to strip of my clothes and sip my java the way nature intended. i'll keep you posted on that front. anyway, this place naturally made me think of you. hope all is well.
Brien

...this town/apex of civilization/whatever-youwanna-call-it is pretty cool. i find a lot of closed doors, having little money and virtually no connections with which to open them, but i am surviving, slinging the ol' espresso in SoHo, one of the sibling fashion capitols of the world. the store [ pictured above ] is on the busiest intersection, with modeling agencies stretching in all cardinal directions which means a) the prices at the store is mad whack, b) disgustingly dumb pretty people walk in as the center of the universe. i must admit, i occasionally gravitate toward a celestrial body... unexpected perk #1: served Robin Williams a double espresso even though he didn't need it. u.p. #2: heckled Quentin Tarantino while hawking lemonade on sidewalk (note: heckle=offered with great timbre and volume). u.p. #3: shared an elevator with Milla Jovavich and intensely imagined saying "hi" or "chicken good."

sh(om)it