I like my coffee strong and my waitresses sullen, which is why I spend so much time in coffee shops writing. I am now huddled in a caffeine-induced haze watching letters appear at random on my screen. And yet, in moments of absentmindedness, I have begun to notice a growing number of people sat in dimly lit spaces, banked behind wisps of steam, staring with hypnotized
enchantment into MacBooks. The few times I can tear myself loose from the chain locking my eyes to my screen, I see a cloud of bloggers, writers, artists and movie makers blocking out the rest of the world to hone in on whatever that silver glow from their screen has burrowed them into.
So what draws people out of their homes and into coffee shops? For me it is devoid of distraction, plus I don’t really have a decent coffee maker at home. There is something appealing about sitting with a warm panini and hot chai latte and phasing into the computer screen that seems to boost my creativity.
Hidden amongst the glowing faces and the energy of creative meetings, there are the casual coffee drinkers, in from the cold or rain, who seem to have no real right to be there at all. They serve no creative purpose; have no real connection to the network of artistic minds that pour into silver laptops or into the consciousness of anyone willing to listen.