Coffee for me

• At this very moment I am sitting in a new coffee shop on Newbury St. Like most of the commercial world in American cities, this shop has gone environmental. In fact it is called Natural Bean Organic Coffee! Personally I am not an excellent judge of coffee because I am a fairly new member of the coffee drinking population. Despite this limitation, my free cup of organic coffee seems mediocre. Perhaps my conscious distaste for the organic hippies taking over the streets is projecting onto the coffee, or maybe it really isn't that good. Either way, I am silently dissatisfied with my entire experience here.
• The small basement level cafe has potential to be great, however it is ruined by the bulletproof-glass surrounding old burlap coffee bags which decorate the walls combined with a strange ceiling... Art? I'm not even sure what to call the awkward oval of scattered environmentalist words over my head.
• I'm also not sure why I am staying here... There are two women sitting here in the small seating area, as well as a couple other students who are quietly working. The two women are talking extremely loudly and answering phone calls which provokes even louder erratic conversation. How rude. Did no one ever teach these women how to behave in public areas?
• Recently I have been trying to figure out why some people are so unaware of their surroundings. Or perhaps they are simply unwilling to behave with etiquette. As these women chatter on, I try to give a not so discrete glare to the one facing my direction. My multiple attempts fail. I'm glaring at a brick wall.
• Literally.
• One thing I have always loved about the architecture in Boston, is all the exposed brick. The jagged red blocks hold up the low ceiling and form the steps leading into the café. The yellow gravelly mortar adds a beautiful element to what could have been an ugly, plain plaster wall (if a modern architect had gotten to it).
• I have been pondering the thought of opening my own café recently. I was in the Mississippi Mud House in St. Louis when a friend brought up the idea. In this particular café, I saw a shelf with a bunch of books on it for sale. I found this rather uncommon feature of a café intriguing. Titles from Moby Dick to War and Peace were available in old hardback editions, all appearing straight out of grandfather’s classic library or the back shelf in a used bookstore.
• When I was in The Mud House in New York City, I had the pleasure of drinking my orange juice out of a jam jar. How creative! As I have been traveling around and seeing numerous coffee shops I have been mentally designing a list of memorable features and notes... As I sit listening to Eartha Kitt, I think I can see this happening someday.