This weekend, I went to visit my friend in St. Louis. I haven't seen her since November, so it was a joyous occasion. I basically got to live life with her for the weekend, which was grand.
Saturday morning, she had to work at the local coffeeshop. Around 7:30, I pulled myself out of bed for some breakfast and coffee. When I arrived, my friend's work was hopping. I stepped up to order my cappecino, met with a oh so familiar question: "Would you like a traditional cappecino?" I breathed out a thankful, "yes". Anyone, who works in the specialty coffee industry can relate with my feelings of relief when met with such a reassuring question that you are indeed in a legit coffee house.
As I sat sipping on my cappe and nibbling my mocha muffin, I just watched the craziness around me. It was incredible to see people frantically searching for seats. One couple sat so close to me, it was impossible not to eaves drop a little bit.
But more impressive than the amount of people was the amount of diversity. A young almost hippie-like couple sat to my right. My left was an elderly man reading the paper. Ahead of me was an international student studying. Next to her, were two middle-aged ladies that looked like old friends. Next to them was a mother and a daughter. The little girl could not have been more than five and had the most enchanting red curls.
It amazes me how one coffee shop can bring so many different people together, and the commitment that all of these people exhibit to this particular coffee shop at 8 am in the morning on SATURDAY!
Because one cup is never enough, I had breakfast and coffee with my cousins at Booster's Cafe. It was the most darling cafe. A significant portion of their profit goes to Africa. Hmmm...sound familiar? Most of the waitresses were international students, and again, the customers all came from diverse backgrounds. An interracial couple sat next to me and my cousins speaking in a language I did not recognize. What a breath of fresh air!
My coffee experience was not all wonderful in St. Louis, however. While we were walking in St. Louis, my friend and I passed a coffee shop that will remain nameless. Immediately, bad memories of horrible coffee and service flooded my mind.
In high school, I had visited that shop with a fellow barista. That experience was so horrible that I wrote a paper on how horrible it truly was.
But that shop is special to me as well, because it was at that moment in high school that I realized I had truly become a "coffee snob".