Coffee in Albuquerque Pt. 1

There's this coffee shop.

It has no name, it's called coffee I think. Yep just "Coffee."

On the corner of Mountain and something (8th St.) it sneaks up on you.  I discovered it a while driving from Albuquerque's old town back home I think.  A midst all these old style Albuquerque homes it pops out suddenly and you just keep bottle-necking as you drive by--your eyes fixed on the blue and red trim and the promise of it being the best cup of coffee you'll ever discover.  That's the hope you have with every coffee shop isn't it though?  Maybe this time, it will be the best coffee you've had so far.

That's what the sign says on it in the front anyway--"Coffee." No clever names, nothing complicated, nothing extraterrestrial like our very own Satellite, neither does it attempt to be godlike similar to the other S word. (It's a word I'm careful not to bring up so that I don't offend.) Just straight to the punch, as if to say "this is what we sell, this is all we sell, we are good at it, and you will love it."  That's the bait, the appeal.  It's what drew me in and it's the kind of thing that gets you hooked--that and the red and blue trim.

At first, it seems like it used to be a house, but it used to be a gas station really.  There is an old postcard on the front of the espresso machine inside with a picture of the place when long ago it used to advertise 7 up big and proud on its fuel pumps. Who drinks 7 up anymore anyway?

I had to take someone else there just to make sure it was real.  Yes, it seems too far away and magical to be a real place. It seemed to only exist in a romanticized Albuquerque. Me and my buddy Sam are fans of coffee and conversations and I had a reason to go there one friday.  (Long story short: The guy that owns the place hired me to paint a house next door and he owed me money--I make friends easily.)  Sam and drove there and walked in.

It's weird to see one of your friends in a different context that your not used to being in together.  I had been going there to paint a house for a couple of days--for the owner who also owns a tile-making company--you see.  I knew I was still sane and in the same city because I could see the one building closest to a skyscraper we boast about here in the biggest city in NM.  But the day I took Sam there was different.  It was slightly rainy though not cold.  It was a perfect day to sit outside and drink a cup of Joe and have a conversation.  There was a literal rainbow across the way from us.  We were facing West sitting outside the quaint little establishment.  We were surrounded by beautiful New Mexico-style homes with flowers all over the front yards.  A man walked up to me and handed me a hundred dollars.  Looking over to Sam I asked "Are we in the same city? Did we go to some far away land and end up here somehow? Is this Narnia?"

Ok I didn't ask if this was Narnia.  But a man did walk up to me and give me a hundred dollars.  He owed me money for painting the house across the way.  It was one of those times where for some reason it becomes more real when another person in your life takes in the experience with you.  It's like when I went to the grand canyon, I had to take a double take and look over to make sure my sister and dad were seeing the same thing I was.

The coffee is quite good.  The espresso drinks are amazing.  There are bagels.  And of course there are free refills.  I asked the barista if there were and he replied with, "What do you think this is, a Nazi concentration camp? Of course they're free."  He used more colorful language.  So there you go.  It's a place where they consider other places inferior for not offering free coffee refills.  Take note Satellite and Starbucks.

It's open 7 to noon everyday.  There is live music on Sundays.  There are some great people that work there and frequent the place.  Many of them are artists looking to talk about anything and everything.  It has a warm neighborhood atmosphere where people are happy to meet you and talk to you.  People are pretty genuine here. I like it.

A Tea Co. pt. I

I work at a place called A Tea Co. This is short for the Annapolis Tea Company. So yes, I work at a tea co. I heard about this job from one of my friends who worked there before me (Marcie). It was a great way to fill my Saturdays, and I get money at the same time.

At the tea co, we have over 130 varieties of tea, a full menu, and free wi-fi. Sometimes we don't get a lot done, but we enjoy each others' company for the slow periods of time. Because ATeaCo is tucked away in the corner of this plaza called the "Scottsdale village," It is not a well known plaza, and the tea company is even more unheard of. Most people that enter our doors wander upon the place as if it could only exist in some alternate reality, and they are lucky enough to find this hidden gem. That's what it is.

I've learned a lot about teas. I am still lacking so much knowledge in this area (and in many others.) Some things I've learned about tea:

1. Anything can be iced. Anything. I can put ice on anything and wala! There you go. Would you like some iced Yerba Mate? Yes I can go to the back, and get some green chili soup and serve it to you iced. [warning, the green chili will still be spicy.]
   
2. Add milk to anything and it becomes a latte (even tea), lattes are more expensive, lattes mean business. Moo juice=Moola.
   
3. Black Tea and Green Tea steep at different temperatures and at different times. I know there is good reason for all of this, I've done this wrong a couple of times. Good thing my boss is forgiving, and good thing the lady at the counter ordering doesn't know the difference. "Excuse me, I'd like my green tea steeped with the proper water at the proper time!." (Disclaimer: I steep tea properly 99.9% of the time.)
4. Red Tea is not tea at all. Well it isn't from the tea plant. It is from a bush called rooibos, from South Africa. No one knows how to properly pronounce it (except maybe my boss). I pretend to know how. (Roy boss) (Roo-E-Bos) in Spanish: (rrrruivos).
   
5. White Tea is not one of my faves. It is pretty and smells great, but give me something Green, or Black with some heavy cream. Yes I do take cream with my black tea. Not milk, haters.
   

One morning, I was sitting at the restaurant called "Anne's Soup Kitchen" which is just across the way from ATeaCo and I realized that it was filled with mostly senior citizens. "I am a lucky man," I said to myself. It took these people their whole lives to find the Scottsdale village, I managed to find it in my twenties.

The tea company attracts a lot of seniors [citizens] and women. One of the questions I was asked when Brian (my current boss) interviewed me was, "Are you good with elderly people?" I said yes. That is what you say at all interviews regardless of your capabilities. You say yes. Truthfully, I am frightened of old people. I basically don't know what to do with people who are below the age of 12 and older than the age of 70 unless I am related or acquainted. Even then it isn't all that easy. For the record, I have tried my best to interact in an un-alien-like manner (and by that I mean with the most respect I can muster) when interacting with seniors at the tea company. Besides, the older ladies think I'm foxy.

All in all, it has been a great place to work. Not only for the working environment, but also for the knowledge I'm gaining and for the good friends I've made.