Coffee shop bliss.
The roommate found it randomly and didn't have to persuade me to tag along to do a little reading and writing on this grey Saturday afternoon. So here I sit, tucked haphazardly in a leather chair, pen in mouth, performing a balancing act in holding my laptop and chai.
There's a chestnut bookshelf on my right and a glass case of mouth-watering desserts on my left. Each holds a sense of longing, and I can't decide which I want to indulge myself in...
And I suppose it doesn't hurt that not more than five tiles away is a cute barista boy. He's got that scruffy, give-me-your-order-and-then-we'll-make-love-in-that-private-back-room sleepy look about him. The dessert case is looking more tempting by the minute...
Although I do not drink coffee (as tea suits me much better), I don't mind the smell. I sit for hours because of the atmosphere, but the smell kind of tops everything off. It's melancholy and warm hands and barista boy smiles. It's a bookshelf full of classics and firey artwork adorning cocoa walls.
I kind of can't get enough of it.
Where you at, "The Jive?" or was it "Brick House Coffee?"
ReplyDelete-both are nice
—God do I want to work at a coffee shop.
see ya at 6!