The Coffee Shop Chronicles No. 13

After I wrote my blog post "A Time for Roaming" and my husband read it , he looked at me and said "I don't agree, you can't stop writing your Coffee Shop Chronicles. They are too good and people look forward to reading them." I do not remember writing in that blog post that I was going to stop doing them. I said they would be "a little less frequent". Which means, I might not get to a coffee shop every week like I was able to do during the winter months. Mostly what it means though is that I want to roam to some new coffee shops and that might not be possible every week. I will do the best I can, I promise.

I returned at the end of last week to the area that my girlfriend Jill and I had visited earlier in the week. This area seems to be under my skin at the moment. So much to see and explore and all within an hour drive from my house. After I got home from my day with Jill I did some research on the area including what coffee shops were nearby. There were eight coffee shops in a three mile radius. Many looked intriguing but one rose like cream to the top of the must visit list.

I arrived at the coffee shop at quarter to ten.

The Sparrows, a lovely old storefront of a place filled with charm and character. I pushed open the heavy wooden door to see a true coffee house spread out before me. Original wooden floors and beautiful detailed metal floor grates.

The sweet young girl behind the counter reminded of a willow branch, a tall, thin wisp of a girl. She was probably near my daughter's age, which did make me feel a little old for a moment, but only a moment. Since many of the customers were young, hipsterish men, it was interesting to watch her interaction with them.

One particular young man caught my attention since he was trying so hard to hit on the sweet young girl. He was busy chatting her up, talking about random nonsense, when all of sudden he utters this weird phrase. I had no idea what he said and neither did Miss Willow Branch. He says "Oh sorry, that was my French slipping out". When this gets no response from Miss Willow he chuckles and says "I'm not really French. I'm really as American as you can get, really". He chuckles again, still with no response from Miss Willow. He decided to take his "Americano" coffee to go and move on.

The customers that frequent this coffee shop are much younger than the ones at my usual coffee shop. They also dress much differently.

One of the reviews I read on this place when I was doing my research said it was frequented by the young hipster crowd but the reviewer said he saw just as many families on the day he was there. I would say the hipster crowd was in the majority on the day I was there, at least as far as to go orders went. Busy young lives with places to go.

The tables as the back of the coffee shop were occupied by slightly older than me gentlemen, either reading their newspaper or working on their computers.

The two gals at the table to my left were probably around my age. They spent quite a bit of time talking about writing. They kept saying to each other what good writers they were but that they really needed to figure out a strategy. I probably heard that word "strategy" ten times in the hour that I was there. Wouldn't they be surprised to know that the girl at the table next to them had her strategy figured out and was actually writing. Even funnier I was writing about them.

I asked Miss Willow if I could take some photos inside the coffee shop with my digital camera. I explained that I write a blog and I do a series on coffee shops that I visit. I said the photos always add a nice visual touch for my readers, and her coffee shop was beautiful and unique. She said "of course". The gals at the next table overheard this conversation and were looking at me in a whole new light as I started taking some photographs. See gals it isn't about strategy it is about courage.

I can definitely see a return trip to The Sparrows in my future.

Until next time...