So it got me thinking -- why no teenage-crush style love from the 'hood for ICH? Well, it turns out, I think, it's really not about the "coffee" at all. It's not even about the decor, or the service (certain beloved coffee shops have horrendous, even indifferent or rude, service). At the risk of stating the super-obvious, it's ultimately about a bourgeois fantasy of community - a place where like-minded consumerist revolutionaries can plan the next assault on poorly-considered design aesthetics and kvetch about stroller recalls and Subaru dealerships. Not to put too fine a point on it - it's about class (not so much race) and a sense that a neighborhood is headed in the right direction. Coffee shop breeds bistro breeds upscale market with 300% marked-up artisanal croutons.
Tongue out of cheek for a moment, I'd probably be one of the regulars at just such a coffee haus. In fact, this very moment, I'm imagining the perfect coffee shop for Parkside Ave across from the Pioneer, and it looks something like this:
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Maybe you've fantasized about being the person to open the "Parkside Percolator," an 800 square foot joint with old couches where patrons could while away their days working on screenplays. I have too! But before you do, please, please read this. And remember that you can always just walk up to K-Dog!
Coffeehouse Nightmare
1 comment:
now we're talking
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