I used to love coffee shops

When I was in high school I thought coffee shops were the greatest
places in the world. I grew up in a small town where I knew everyone
yet they seemed to attract a secret town one I didn't know. This town
was intellectual, radical and artistic. I loved every tale of an art
piece made from menstrual blood or a happening involving a picnic in a
metered parking spot. I loved the coffee though it was usually over
roasted I loved that forty year old lesbians who happened to have
hairy armpits (I'm not suggesting all lesbians do) would treat me like
an adult. The smallish university town coffee house truly was town
hall to freakdom. In the city you lose that, spending ages in bars. I
sit in a bistro with over roasted espresso made from an improperly
cleaned machine and it makes me think of when I was a teenage
radical.