Good evening from the 23rd Street Starbucks. Michelle and I are sitting here while she drinks her $5 caramal macchiatto.
In college, I used to hang out at a coffee house in Columbia on occasion and listen to the open-mic nights. I must be getting old because I can’t remember the name of the place anymore.
There is a place up on the square here in Independence that used to be like that except with a Christian flair. It’s under new ownership now and I’m not sure whether it still serves as a social scene.
I don’t know why I care. My social life seems to revolve around sporting events instead of my old bohemian locales.