I spent last night in Denver and had the morning free, so I set out to find a good coffee place for some writing, reading, and coffeeing. The place nearest the house was mobbed, probably because the bad weather the previous day discourage people from driving, or lots of people are on vacation for Christmas already.
I remembered a coffee place I'd seen the week before, but it was way down Broadway in the antiques district. I couldn't think of any reason not to give it a try so I headed north.
I parked in the thick, filthy snow-slush in front of Strange Grounds. I followed a strange old man inside. His Subaru had a complicated purple bike rack on the back, and the car was decorated with silver garlands and Christmas lights. He didn't look like he'd ride a bicycle.
This place was just right. The room opened up into what had once been a neighboring business. That room had more seating and a nice stage. There were books, art, a bulletin board and, of course, good coffee. Funky from the word go. The young, sweetly pierced barista was also a fiddle player.
The old man had on a strange fur hat with a long tail reaching down his back almost to his waist. I wondered what animal would have a grey fluffy tail that long. I still haven't been able to answer that question. On top of his hat, he wore a wide ear-warmer band, (what the hell are those things called?) so I couldn't really get a good look at the fur hat. He was friendly. There was a big O on the headband thing. University of Oregon?
Strange Grounds advertises "Strange Grounds is Open Late Damn Near Every Night of the Week". They encourage musicians and singers to come and perform on their stage, and stay open late for writing and discussion groups. Life can be good in the city.
I remembered a coffee place I'd seen the week before, but it was way down Broadway in the antiques district. I couldn't think of any reason not to give it a try so I headed north.
I parked in the thick, filthy snow-slush in front of Strange Grounds. I followed a strange old man inside. His Subaru had a complicated purple bike rack on the back, and the car was decorated with silver garlands and Christmas lights. He didn't look like he'd ride a bicycle.
This place was just right. The room opened up into what had once been a neighboring business. That room had more seating and a nice stage. There were books, art, a bulletin board and, of course, good coffee. Funky from the word go. The young, sweetly pierced barista was also a fiddle player.
The old man had on a strange fur hat with a long tail reaching down his back almost to his waist. I wondered what animal would have a grey fluffy tail that long. I still haven't been able to answer that question. On top of his hat, he wore a wide ear-warmer band, (what the hell are those things called?) so I couldn't really get a good look at the fur hat. He was friendly. There was a big O on the headband thing. University of Oregon?
Strange Grounds advertises "Strange Grounds is Open Late Damn Near Every Night of the Week". They encourage musicians and singers to come and perform on their stage, and stay open late for writing and discussion groups. Life can be good in the city.
