This morning I stopped at Ye Olde Bicycle Place and Cafe for a cup of coffee.
The bike shop next door, with an internal connection door, was not open yet. The barista sat at one of the tables, reading a book and making notes on a Macbook. He was a tall, lanky young man with curly blond hair, tied back with a yellow hair band, giving him a bit like the look of blond dreadlocks. He wore two dark earrings. About three days of growth of beard and piercing hazel eyes looked up at me and smiled.
Devin got up, gave me a hug, poured me a cup of coffee and served me a cheese Danish, still in the cellophane wrapper. The price was half of what it would have been at Starbucks, and I could have taken a bike for a test ride.
A morning can’t get any better than that.