Once upon a time…
The other day, the closest Starbucks to me—which still quite a distance, mind you—decided that they were going to start closing shop at 2:30 p.m., well before the internal lust for an ice cold Venti Mocha Frappuccino (with nonfat milk and no cream, natch) takes hold of my tired body sometime in the late afternoon.
For the many coffee consumers that live in the NW 23rd and Penn area, we sadly know there is nowhere near us that specifically dedicates themselves to a warm cup of Joe and the variations thereof except for possibly 7-Eleven, God bless ‘em. So I had to pack a bag and travel elsewhere in the city for a caffeine fix, aided by my former neighbor Amy who has been looking for a new place to imbibe some morning mud herself.
Taking off in her furniture-loaded automobile—the broken rear-hatch that keeps a large painting trapped in the backseat forevermore—my one rule was to avoid the better-known java joints like Coffee Slingers and Elemental Coffee for lesser-known places that are typically ignored in favor of the big guys…all for me to ask “Do you have something that’s like a Mocha Frapp, brah?”
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