Was I certifiable?
I climbed onto the el at Girard and jumped off at 40th Street. The torrent stopped five times and precisely five times I opened my umbrella again. During a clear minute, I approached the Hub Bub Coffee truck at 38th and Spruce.
Bright. Shiny. Red. Waiting. Weather what?
The proprietor was a fine soul and we chatted about the Stumptown tasting at Savona and the Ace Hotel in NYC. He promised to be there until 2pm on Saturdays. The coffee was deep and mystic and elvish and I kept stopping in the middle of the street to talk to myself about how insanely right it was. That's why drinking coffee alone is hazardous. I had my video camera and I wanted to sit my coffee down and put a mic on it.
This is my new everything photo
At Stumptown, I went for straight up coffee again and picked up a bag of Ethiopian Mordecofe. I was glad to see how many coffees they carried. The lobby of the hotel serves as the seating area for the shop and I felt like I'd be an asshole to interrupt the perfect scene (like a library/laboratory in a hunting lodge where the internet had died) by acting like a blogger. This is perhaps the most awkward by way of magnificent hotel lobby that you can find on the East Coast. It's pretty ugly. I wanted to spend the night there but that many soy macchiatos might kill me.