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Looking For Java Love



    I'm giving up coffee. Not because of some medical reason but for the simple reason that I can't find a coffee shop that I like to drink my morning cup.
    Let me explain. Every morning I like to get out of the house for a cup of coffee, Hopefully that will be at place that's comfortable, unpretentious and serves good coffee.     Put another way, I want my chosen coffee shop to be much like, in atmosphere, my chosen place to drink beer. That place is Silver Moon. Why? Because the Moon offers a low key atmosphere with zero pretentiousness, plenty of normal working people patronizing the joint, a staff  that’s friendly and they serve good beer. In short, a place I can go and drink alone while reading something or meet old friends to enjoy their company.
    Now when it comes to coffee, I thought I'd found my place. It was on Newport Avenue. The vibe was mellow, decent music playing in the background, there were two easy chairs and a comfortable sofa to relax on inside, daily papers to read, a pleasant staff, a nice outdoor patio and tasty coffee.
    I started going there daily only to arrive one morning to a sign thanking patrons for their business but, sad to say, " we're closing down."
    So I embarked on a quest for a replacement coffee shop. Corporate coffee shops were ruled out from the start. So first on my list was a visit to what appeared to be a likely new hangout. All was going pretty well until a man at the next table started to loudly quote Biblical verses to another person at his table. Soon the two were praying together loudly.
    There's a time and place for everything and it wasn't my time for a religious interlude. I was there simply to wake up with a good cup of coffee and scan of the morning papers.
    So I moved on. Next stop was a coffee shop where I felt totally ill at ease since I sported neither an all black hip clothing ensemble nor multiple tats.     At my next stop and I felt naked sitting there without my laptop creating a Twit, updating my Facebook page or writing in my journal which, by the way, will be the basis for the next great American autobiography.
    There were fewer computers at the next place on my list plus the coffee was good and the barista (see I'm betting more coffee lingo hip during my quest) didn't look at me like I was from a strange land when I asked for a simple cup of coffee.
    All was going well here until a woman sat down close by. pulled out her laptop and got on Skype. Then she preceded to air her dirty laundry and most of her personal life to the person on the other end of her call as well as to everyone within hearing distance (meaning the whole coffee shop).
    Rebuffed and not willing to get a tat, buy hipper clothes, get on Skype, pray loudly, Twit, or write the great American novel while sipping a plain old cup of coffee, I tried one more place.
    As it turned out, this place was it. Well at least for a while until it got discovered and overrun by thirty-something moms. Obviously they feel comfortable there which is wonderful for them but not so for a curmudgeon in training.
    Frustrated, I've decided to take out an ad on Craigs List. It'll read: "man of a certain age, and growing more grumpy by the day, seeks a not-so-hip, laid back, unpretentious place to have a morning cup of coffee. Reply to Looking For Hot Java Love."

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