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, March 22, 2012

The Delicate Art of Sacrifice

Decisions reverberate—especially big, life-altering decisions like the one made at le Harbor Bungalow Café last month. 

When the barista commenced his present stint at le Harbor Bungalow Café, it was no secret that Jennifer had ideas of selling her cozy, quaint, warm and tasty coffee and pastry establishment.  In fact, it was her first attempt—which imploded late in the process—that was a topic of discussion during the barista’s first week on the job.  Nearly a year and a half later—and six years since Jennifer bought the shop—the day arrived. 

“It feels like I’m breaking up with you,” said Jennifer.  The barista sensed something was up, but had yet to connect the dots as they strolled down Broadway after work.  “I’ve sold the shop.”


The responsibilities of running a coffee shop while raising a family are many.  For Jennifer they overlapped.  Her daughter was raised at le café.  Her infant son was a regular morning visitor in his car seat.  Now he too, can walk.  Jennifer’s was a delicate juggling act.  Where she once sacrificed aspects of her family life to manage the shop, now she decided to sacrifice part of her professional life by transferring ownership to an enthusiastic couple.  The barista understood.

“Please stay and help out the new owners,” Jennifer encouraged as the factory lights across the harbor twinkled and reflected in the night water beyond the square.  The barista noticed how tough the decision was for Jennifer. 

“Of course,” the barista said.  “I have no plans otherwise…have I met the new owners?”

“I don’t know.  They’ve been in the shop a few times recently.  She’s blond, her husband has close, dark hair…I think their teenage kids were with them once.”

The barista actually remembered a couple that fit Jennifer’s descriptions.  They stuck out from the crowd not only because they tipped very well, but also because they referred to the barista by his first name—without the barista introducing himself.  A tipoff.

“So will you continue baking for the shop?  You’re not going to totally disappear, are you?”

“I hope to (continue baking).  We’re still working out some of the details.”

 This could be exciting, thought the barista.  The infusion of le Harbor Bungalow Café.  The binging was over.  The purging has commenced.  Like Jennifer, the barista also experienced a sense of relief.  Relief that certain aspects of le café overdue for change will now be changed.

But how will le café be changed?  And why was Fister Mishy sacrificed?

Let me introduce you to Shelly.  She’s here to fix the refrigerator.

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