On my favourite coffee place

I'd like to take a break in our regularly scheduled programming to bring you a love letter to my favourite coffee shop. Wait wait WAIT don't go - I promise it's not as weird as it sounds!

Here's the thing. I have lived in my flat for the past two years now, and am blessed (/cursed, if you're reviewing my bank balance) with extremely close proximity to aaaaaaall the nice food and drink places I can handle: they're literally just downstairs. In amongst all of those glorious establishments lives one of my favourite places - my coffee shop of choice.

I actually didn't pay a huge amount of attention to it in the first year or so that I lived here. I went in a few times, but didn't take in my surroundings much, and mostly just focused on the caffeine and cake that I was shoving in my face. However, over the past few months - and I can't really explain why - I started making a point of getting to know the people there. I paused for a chat that didn't just consist of "please", "thank you" and "have a nice day". I introduced myself, learnt to put names to faces, and generally tried to ingratiate myself a bit - and not just with the aim of getting free coffee. Now, they're a well-established part of my day. In fact, I'm drafting this from within their very walls.

Here's what I like about the place: the people. Sure, the coffee is fricking incredible, and jolts me out of my sleepy daze in the morning enough to propel me through at least 20 minutes' worth of my walk to work (that's saying something at 8am). They also do a mean ham & cheese croissant, which will probably send me to an early grave what with the quantity that I consume each week, but at least I'll go smiling. But - and this is a big but (stop giggling) - it is the fact that the people are all so flipping lovely that keeps me coming back every morning.

I am truly an advocate of being a regular, and having a roster of trusted, welcoming places that are habitual and homely. I have my comic shop (which is also full of excellent people), and now I have my coffee place. And it's not the shop or the products that draw me in, it's the connection you form with the people you see every day. 

Luckily for me, the folks downstairs are friendly, charming, and - on occasion - even a little bit nerdy, which suits me to a tee. Being able to start my day with a grin and a chat - recent random topics have included: inner gremlins; pig racing; the word for a big birdcage like the one in Aladdin (“menagerie” is apparently what he was searching for…not “boulangerie”); the joy that can come only from a trip to Lakeland plastics; and a truly excellent (and lethal) sounding recipe for punch - makes my day infinitely better. It's been particularly helpful when I've woken up in the doldrums, ready to trudge my way through the day in a depressed fashion. They give me a lift, and not just because they’re supplying me with A-grade caffeine.

So all I can say is this: thanks guys, you’re pretty stellar people. I hope you don’t get sick of me any time soon, because – like a persistent hangover the day after a friend’s wedding – I’m going to be hard to shake.