I’m writing this on a laptop that’s resting on a piece of what appears to be reclaimed beveled aluminum that has been purposely rusted. To my left are oil pastels of what appears to be a young artist’s mental state after hanging upside down for three hours and breathing deeply. Coffee here costs $3.50 because the barista is still paying off his tuition from Barista U, where he learned how to swirl Che Guevara’s face on the top of a latte, right down to the cinnamon mustache.
In St. Louis I had coffee at a place that served it in a chemistry set. When it got cold I set my beaker on a bunsen burner and flipped a switch. When you dipped a Biscotti in you caused a chemical reaction and the cup foamed over. In the saucer, the foam formed another image of Che Guevara. It was uncanny.
But apparently I made a mistake. The baristas did not approve. Imagine a half dozen broke Psychology Phd’s, arms folded, shaking their heads because you don’t understand the delicate inner life of a cafe au lait.
That’s CaFAY Oh Lay, you philistines!
Seriously, Millennials have officially gotten out of control. I live in a city of 70,000 people and there are no fewer that 20 coffee shops in town. If we reduce the population down to the people who actually give a shit how heat and gravity are utilized to brew a cup of coffee, that’s 1 cafe per person. The rest of us would just as soon take the Jetsons route and pop pills to get our caffeine, if it didn’t cause our loved ones concern.
The worst part, and this goes for hipster “pubs” too, is watching people pretend to be both blue collar AND bohemian at the same time!
Listen, I know blue collar people—do you know why it’s hard to be a blue collar artist? Because they do ACTUAL blue collar work at breaks their hands, backs, and hearts over years and years. But I cannot tell you how many German Industrial-sounding beers I have drank (drunk? drunken?) on how many “weathered reclaimed timber” tables, served by some slender gent with a handlebar mustache who can quote “The Old Man and The Sea” and eats “sashimi” (just call it raw fish!) but wouldn’t dare go fishing for fear of alienating his vegan book club.
A request to all hipsters in Lynchburg, VA who are trying to find your slice of the Lynchburg douche-y coffee market: please take the beanie off for just a second and take a nice cold pour over right onto your skull. Return all the reclaimed wood from the Unitarian Church pews, and all the beveled aluminum you carved out of old fashioned aluminum trash cans.
Then think up a business idea that a) gives the world something it doesn’t already have a million of, and that b) is true to your actual, and not your imagined, community.
You know, like a live stream of your Minecraft tournament, or something.