Today was a mournful day. Every morning I go grab coffee at a local coffee shop called Jitters, which has been around Redmond much longer than I have: 22 years to my 14. But now they’ve had to close their location (a repurposed bank building) and haven’t been able to find a new place.
They’re celebrating their last day in style: balloons, a big card for everyone to sign, and free coffee all day long, but there is a sad undertone to the merriment. We’d gone through the drivethrough, then came in to sign the card and say goodbye. Last week, I’d made sure to sign up for the mailing list, to be notified if they find a new location, but so far the manager hasn’t seemed very hopeful about that.
As we were coming towards the door, a gentleman was coming out. We nodded at each other and he paused. Both of us felt, I think, a need to mark the occasion, to acknowledge the Jitters bond. “Sad day,” he said. “Very sad,” I replied. Inside all the baristas were glammed out and a little shell-shocked, I think, that this day had come.
Meanwhile, I’ve bought a lovely Chemex in order to make coffee at home after reading a recent Chuck Wendig post about it. I fear that I finally have fallen into the Seattle trap and become a coffee snob. I even have some Tonx coffee coming, since they are willing to give you a free sample. And there’s a pleasing ritual to it, the dousing of the filter in hot water, then using that water to warm the mug. Wayne got me an electric kettle for Christmas after watching the two saucepan version of that dance, and it rocks.
Still, I will sorely miss Wendy and Megan and Amanda and all the rest of the cheerful Jitters crew.
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"(On the writing F&SF workshop) Wanted to crow and say thanks: the first story I wrote after taking your class was my very first sale. Coincidence? nah….thanks so much."
(science fiction, flash story) Discretion was the company’s watchword, or so Tiffany had been assured by Maria, who lived two floors down and had done it three months ago. No one needed to know. The technician was a thin blond youth, the left half of their face a conservative faux-tribal tattoo medley, almost retro, dressed in a bland-patterned coverall. They carried a slim silver box, briefcase shaped and sized, the handle set on one of the smaller sides.
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