For me, working from home can be
a trick and a trap. At home, I have the fridge, Netflix, even the cat to distract me from work. The cat, Gabby, is an excellent conversationalist and loves Asian action movies as much as I do. During my lunch break, she’s bound to suggest that we watch a Donnie Yen movie then before we know it, dinner time has arrived and Netflix is recommending another movie to whet our appetites for high kicks and the spray of fake arterial blood.
To help people like me, the both known and unknown “they” have developed something called “co-working” spaces. I just found out about this at a conference a couple of weeks ago so feel super “in the know” now. Never mind that, in reality, I’m severely out of the loop since these spaces have existed for years. With co-working, a discipline-deficient telecommuter can pay a monthly fee for a space where they can commute to, see other people who are working on different projects, have that office environment without the boss breathing down their necks. And even have a bit of office drama to keep the blood pumping, if that’s what they’re into.
Since finding out about co-working, I researched them with as much thoroughness as I could manage, then dismissed them as impractical for me because I’m cheap AF. I’ve stumbled upon local coffee shops and self-styled cafés as my working spots of choice. Mostly, they’ve been great. Usually, everyone else is working (co-working for the price of a coffee or three), the noise level is bearable, and the music is inoffensive.
My favorite coffee shop is a clean, well-lighted place with regular eye-candy popping in to give my romance novel writing sessions some inspiration. It also has killer savory scones. My waistline won’t thank me for the scones, but my taste buds also love that this coffee shop has cayenne pepper on hand to put in my coffee and there’s a cute, hipster coffee boy behind the counter who recognizes me – though you can never tell with these efficient customer service types - and makes sure my coffee has the right amount of burn. And maybe the best thing of all, I can walk to this coffee shop.
My least favorite place, a place I ended up at only because my writing group meets there every other Saturday, has a resistible array of pastries and the worst music known to woman or beast. This coffee shop regularly plays death metal – I swear someone who works there doesn’t like their customers – and pretends to turn down the music when people complain. Like my favorite place, they don’t stay open late enough for my taste – I’d LOVE for a 24-hour coffee shop to open up in Atlanta – but at least my favorite place has everything else going for it. This thumbs-down place has no lustable coffee boy. No yummy savories. And it’s certainly not within walking distance. If I left home on foot, I’d get there sometime next week absent of toenails and any desire to do any actual work once I collapsed from exhaustion.
Luckily, my favorite place exists and most of my friends now know to give me gift certificates from there so I can regularly sidle up to the bar and bat eyes at hipster coffee boy when my fingers need a break from pounding out words.
What’s your favorite place to work and/or grab coffee in your city? How is the eye-candy there?
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As a delicious treat, here’s a link to the Instagram page for hot “Men and Coffee.”