- Joined
- Nov 5, 2006
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- dunking doughnuts at Dunkin' Donuts
One of my favorite local NotStarbucks coffeehouses posted a letter on Facebook from their new landlord today. He respects them as a small business and the contributions they've made to the local community blah blah blah woof woof but F.U. I'm not renewing your lease and you're closing at the end of March because I have other ideas on how to use the space which include tearing down the current building kthnxbai.
I first went to the Sisters when they had a small shop in downtown Minneapolis. The previous tenant in their space was another coffee shop but the guy who ran it was a total ASS. I mean, he was a capital ASS ASS. The few times I went, he would laugh and joke with the person in front of me but when it was my turn, I didn't get the same treatment. The smile and the laugh would disappear, and I felt like I was an unnecessary interruption to his previous conversation. I thought I was imagining things but after three or four times of this, I quit going.
Mind you, I still walked by the place on my way to The Day Job and after a while, I saw that he wasn't there any longer. I wanted to be sure so I hung back a few days and when I was positive he was no longer working behind the counter, I started going in. The women behind the counter were quite pleasant and happy to have me there. In fact, after about two weeks, one of them said to me, "You know, I've noticed you coming in for a while now and you've never told me your name. Now, what is it?"
I was sold.
It turns out the downtown shop was an expansion from the closing location and the owners of both places have an interesting story to tell: they have a HUGE family. I mean HUGE. Ten siblings. To add to that, two of the siblings are twins and six are two sets of triplets. One set of triplets owns the coffee shop (in fact, one of their brothers also has a mini-chain of five restaurants, with two locations at the airport). The downtown shop began a deep abiding crush for me; it was where I realized I have a thing for baristas (he showed up in my second novel Kitchen Witch). I almost worked up the nerve to try to ask him out but I ran it by one of the owners before I said anything (it took two attempts before I could say anything and then she gently had to let me down, dammit).
Unfortunately, because of skyrocketing rents, as is happening in many urban locations these days, there were too many times where they were just barely covering payroll and they had to make the painful decision to close downtown. I'll have to see about going out to the main shop to see if they have any of the custom coffee mugs available; the potter who makes them only fires up her kiln for the holiday season so these are really special. The older one I have is a mix of clay and white ceramic, looking like coffee as you're stirring cream into it. Something fell on the edge of the mug and gouged out a chunk on the lip, so I've taken it out of circulation and put it away. That, and to have one last usual (single white mocha with whipped cream, which they make in store).
I first went to the Sisters when they had a small shop in downtown Minneapolis. The previous tenant in their space was another coffee shop but the guy who ran it was a total ASS. I mean, he was a capital ASS ASS. The few times I went, he would laugh and joke with the person in front of me but when it was my turn, I didn't get the same treatment. The smile and the laugh would disappear, and I felt like I was an unnecessary interruption to his previous conversation. I thought I was imagining things but after three or four times of this, I quit going.
Mind you, I still walked by the place on my way to The Day Job and after a while, I saw that he wasn't there any longer. I wanted to be sure so I hung back a few days and when I was positive he was no longer working behind the counter, I started going in. The women behind the counter were quite pleasant and happy to have me there. In fact, after about two weeks, one of them said to me, "You know, I've noticed you coming in for a while now and you've never told me your name. Now, what is it?"
I was sold.
It turns out the downtown shop was an expansion from the closing location and the owners of both places have an interesting story to tell: they have a HUGE family. I mean HUGE. Ten siblings. To add to that, two of the siblings are twins and six are two sets of triplets. One set of triplets owns the coffee shop (in fact, one of their brothers also has a mini-chain of five restaurants, with two locations at the airport). The downtown shop began a deep abiding crush for me; it was where I realized I have a thing for baristas (he showed up in my second novel Kitchen Witch). I almost worked up the nerve to try to ask him out but I ran it by one of the owners before I said anything (it took two attempts before I could say anything and then she gently had to let me down, dammit).
Unfortunately, because of skyrocketing rents, as is happening in many urban locations these days, there were too many times where they were just barely covering payroll and they had to make the painful decision to close downtown. I'll have to see about going out to the main shop to see if they have any of the custom coffee mugs available; the potter who makes them only fires up her kiln for the holiday season so these are really special. The older one I have is a mix of clay and white ceramic, looking like coffee as you're stirring cream into it. Something fell on the edge of the mug and gouged out a chunk on the lip, so I've taken it out of circulation and put it away. That, and to have one last usual (single white mocha with whipped cream, which they make in store).
