Welcome to where the seeds of dreams are planted--where one can sip from the charmed chalice of life & meet interesting folk through (hopefully) intelligent conversation.

One never knows nor can expect who will sail into the fray--what we do know is that no soul here is perfect no matter how we try. So let us celebrate & raise our mugs to the idiosyncratic nature of life--to the Kramer's & Norm's of the world, the Roseanne's & Allan Poe's. Some old, some lost, some tortured, some blessed, all souls sharing a drink at the same time in the same place. The ensuing tales are authentic with names trending towards monikers. The flag waving on our doorstep means we're open, so come perk your curiosity in Le Harbor Bungalow Cafe.

Bonjour! Mesherfin! Hasta la vista! Your barista.

Thursday, September 29, 2011

Early morning omens

         After noticing the new dog bowl was left outside overnight, the barista cringed and prepared for a long day.  The fact that the water bowl Jennifer uses to attract patrons was not stolen this time was a good sign, but the extra work this harbung was unwelcome given the severity of the barista's hangover.  At least the barista made it to the cafe on time--before sunrise--despite celebrating a successful second gig at the Recher Theatre the previous night.  Like his singer, bandleader Angelique, the barista has an affinity for the whiskey.

       "To a great summer tour," the barista--now bassist--said as he raised his glass after the last shot was poured before they took the stage.
          "A toast to those who make toasts," said drummer Jaime, adding what he always adds.
          Adam, Josh and Angie pound their glasses on the bar before their big gulps.  Smiles reflect around the circle.  This second Recher Theatre show was the final gig of a dozen-show summer tour for Angelique & the "Bedass Boys" as they've come to be called.  Neither the "Shampoo Effect", nor the "Dirty Smurfs" really caught on, despite their innuendo...or maybe because of their innuendo.  
          The past three and a half months have been a weekend warrior tour that led most of the gang from Maine to Kansas and various stops in between--Down East Country Festival, Nikstock(m*therrf.#ckers!!!), High Land Jam, Wichita Pride, Six Flags. They even warmed up some Meatloaf at a New Jersey Quicky Mart Balloon Festival.

         But all that was far from the barista's mind this early morning as he yawned and warmed up the espresso machine.  "Well, at least I don't have to warm up the soup this morning,"  he said as he turned off the heated pot left on overnight.  
         "Good morning!!!"  It's 7:15 am and in rolls Squeaky to the empty cafe.  Squeaky is a bearded,  70-year old recovering alcoholic.  On his clock it's high noon and he wants some more coffee so he can be wired and talk to the hungover barista all morning.
        "Hi, Squeaky," the barista manages as he wipes the previous day's coffee stains from the counter.
        "Has anyone called for me?  You know I give people your number cause I don't have a phone at home."
         "No, Squeaky.  It's what? Seven thirty in the morning?  No one's awake unless they have to be."  Coffee just doesn't taste as good when dehydrated from a night of boozing.  The barista begins to chug water, but it will take time for him to perk up.  But there is plenty to keep his mind from that misery and  keep him busy around the cafe this rainy morning.
         Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnngg!!!!!! Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnngggggggg!!!!
         "Coffee house."
        "Great show last night," Jennifer says in a perky voice over the phone.  After accommodating for the barista's touring adventures all summer, his boss finally got to see a performance first hand.  But no doubt she was calling to check in that the bassist made it to the shop on time.
         "I kinda butchered the first song, but I think we settled in after that.  Thanks, though.  Glad you were able to make it out."
         "So how's your morning going?"
         To vent or not to vent, that is the question.  But as the owner, Jennifer has the right to know about the "State of the Cafe."  Right?  Hmmmm...the barista thinks looking at a list he wrote of 20 things forgotten the night prior.  Just then a customer walks through the door.  "Gotta go!"
         "So what if the doggie bowl was left out," the barista says aloud to Squeaky. "It wasn't stolen."
         "Then it will be a good day," the new positive Squeaky assures. "Good things happen to good people."
         The barista smiles for the first time all morning.
        

Monday, September 19, 2011

Care for a drink? A spot of tea?

Welcome to where the seeds of dreams are planted--where one can sip from the charmed chalice of life & meet interesting folk through (hopefully) intelligent conversation.

One never knows nor can expect who will sail into the fray--what we do know is that no soul here is perfect no matter how we try.  So let us celebrate & raise our mugs to the idiosyncratic nature of life--to the Kramer's & Norm's of the world, the Roseanne's & Allan Poe's.  Some old, some lost, some tortured, some blessed, all souls sharing a drink at the same time in the same place.  The ensuing tales are authentic with names trending towards monikers. The flag waving on our doorstep means we're open, so come perk your curiosity in Le Harbor Bungalow Cafe.

Bonjour!

Mesherfin!

Hasta la vista!

Your barista.