I’m not much of a coffee drinker. In fact I usually can’t stand the stuff, aside from the rare iced vanilla latte. I know, I know – blasphemy! As a writer, I’m supposed to run entirely on caffeine, ink, and more caffeine. I’m supposed to have a manically scribbled notebook in one hand and three mochas in the other, gulping them all at the same time as my late-night eyes bug out over the cups. But nope, not me.
Yet as much as I don’t care for coffee, I do like coffee shops.