The Denver Café Chronicles—Prodigy Coffee

Mission: Every week I visit a new café/coffee shop in Denver, and write an article that has 2 segments. The first part, “the fact,”  is my experience at the café, a review if you will, how I’m feeling, what I see, etc… The second part, “the fiction,” consists of a fictional story that I come up with while at the café. I grab onto my surroundings, the vibes, and my feelings to inspire the short story.
fact
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It is a hot, hot day. I’ve been outside for the majority of it, and all I want is an ice cold caffeinated beverage. I’ve got some time to kill in between my work day so I decide to find a coffee shop along my route. I find a few nearby but there’s a name that stands out to me which is five minutes out of my way. Googling the photos of this coffeehouse, I’m attracted to the bright murals painted on the outside of the building. Pulling up to Prodigy Coffeehouse, I notice the shop is its own building with large garage-style doors. There are people spread out working on their computers and meeting with people. The vibes are fresh and cool as I walk into the shop, music is softly bumping. I’m greeted by two pleasant baristas. I ask about a drink on the menu and the barista politely explains it’s just a frozen drink, similar to “their friends across the street”. I look over his shoulder out the large barn door windows to see what he’s talking about realizing immediately that it’s Starbucks. I order myself an iced homemade chai and ask him to throw some espresso in it. He doesn’t ask me how much, but smiles and nods his head as he types it into the computer. I also order a cheesecake brownie, because well, brownie.

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There is a lot of open seating available, inside and out. I like the vibes inside, so I choose a booth next to a closed glass garage door. I like booths because I can easily sit cross-legged in them. There’s a cute large pup sleeping on the floor next to my spot. I pretty much devour my brownie in a matter of seconds, to the point where the last few bites are tasteless due to the sugar overload on my tongue. I sit enjoying my brownie, taking sips of my iced chai and look around the room. The coffee bar is made up of these cool looking green ceiling tiles, the kind you might find on the ceiling of an old pub. I notice I’m surrounded by my favorite color, lime green. There are quotes on the wall and my favorite one says “it is certainly true that you can’t judge a book by its cover, nor can you judge a book by its first chapter—even if that chapter is twenty years long.” For some reason, that one resonates with me.

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I’m noticing that I am becoming extremely sweaty sitting in this booth. Half of my body is in direct sunlight, and it’s enough to make me move to a table out of the sun. It’s no booth, but I still manage to find myself sitting cross-legged in the chair. A nice breeze blows on me from the open garage doors. This coffeehouse is possibly one of my favorite cafés I’ve been to yet. The openness of the building with the glass garage doors, the concrete floors and countertops, the booth and table seating, the hip music playing above, and the trendy yet simple menu all create this very familiar yet unique vibe. This place just feels cool. But not the too cool kind of place. The kind of place that I could see myself sitting in during the middle of the day in shorts, often. I’m so content sitting here, but I get a tad sidetracked when I stumble across videos of adults seeing colors for the first time. I’m literally crying in the middle of this coffeehouse and I love it.

 

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fiction

Jim and Carrie sit at the end of the old wooden dock and let their feet dangle above the water. The pot roast Jim started a few hours ago has about 30 more minutes until it’s ready. Every Sunday, they make a nice dinner, spend time outside together, and make sure that their phones are away left charging in their room. Sunday is their day.

“I promise, I will pick up the poop!” Carrie yells at him with a giant smirk on her face.

“No way in hell. We do not have the time for a puppy right now!” Jim never had pets as a child and doesn’t relate with Carrie on her want to get a dog.

“But we have this huge yard. Just imagine little Jimmy jumping off this dock playing catch!”

“Okay, so first off, if we get a dog, it will definitely not be named after ME. Second off, I love you.” He pauses as he smiles and looks into her hopeful eyes. “Third off, maybe in a couple years.”

“YEARS! Nooooo,” she wails. “I simply cannot accept that answer.” She is folding her arms now like a child would in any tantrum. Her lips are pursed and her chin is raised to the sky. “I’m gonna convince you, just you wait.” She quickly swings her feet onto the dock, jumps up, then bends down to kiss the back of his neck. “You’ll see,” she whispers into his ear. He jumps up, and she pulls away from him and sprints down the dock to the grass. He chases after her and grabs her by the waist. He pulls her toward him and raises her off the ground, spinning her around twice.

“You and your puppy dreams are going to be the downfall of my very successful garden.” He plants a full kiss on her lips and sets her back on the ground. 

“Ha!” She spits back at him. “You mean THAT very successful garden?” She points to four wilting tomato plants across the yard.

“It has been a bad rain season!” He exclaims back at her.

“Oh my god, YOU are the one that can’t handle a puppy. I’ll come home to it dead after a business trip and you’ll say something dumb like ‘it never made itself dinner!” 

“Exactly!”

Carrie rolls her eyes. Smiling, she pulls herself away from Jim, takes his hand and leads him back to the house. The kitchen smells so good of pot roast. The evening has gotten chilly and the house still has some warmth left in it from the warm day.

“Hey babe, can you put the garlic bread in? I’ll make the salad.”

“Oh, you mean your famous lettuce and cheese?” Carrie shot back to him as she places the bread in the oven.

“Hey now, simplicity is the best.”

“Simplicity is boring. And tasteless.” Carrie moves behind Jim and grabs a couple fresh tomatoes she bought from a farmers market earlier that morning. “See, THIS is what you could have. Someday. Definitely, after we get our puppy.”

“Oh! I promise you. We will have fresh homegrown tomatoes long before we have a puppy.” He replies back, shredding a block of cheese.

“I won’t hold my breath.” She takes out a cutting board from the cabinets under Jim, and slices up the tomato. “Oh, I forgot!” She excitedly jumps and prances over to the fridge. “I picked up this awesome balsamic vinaigrette at the market this morning. The old man selling it was so cute. I had like a 10-minute conversation with him.” She handed it to Jim and he looked it over.

“Cool bottle,” he says. He opens it up and puts a couple drops onto his finger. “Mmmm.” He then proceeds to slowly pour it over the lettuce. “I think we have some pine nets left over from the other night.” Carrie went over to the pantry and grabbed the small bag of nuts.

“See!” Jim shouted. Way more than just lettuce and cheese.”

“Barely, babe.” She smacks his butt and takes out 2 wine glasses from the open cupboard. “Got this too.” She waves a wine bottle above her head.

“Nice.” He smirks at her while he mixes the salad.

She places the glasses down with a slight clank. Jim turns into Carrie, grabs her face with both hands and gives her a hard kiss on her forehead. Carrie crinkles her nose as he pulls away.

“Your hands are so wet,” she says as she dramatically wipes her face with the sleeve of her shirt and gives him a big side smile as she turns to open the wine bottle.

spring, spring, goddamn spring

Spring has sprung! Oh god, punch me. Like we need more cliches or analogies to the more obvious oddities that come around every few quarter months. I’d love to smell the new budded roses but my nasal cavities are swollen from the pollen saturated air. These days of gloom and nights of boom-in-the-sky are making me feel achy and I wake up as if recovering from a bipolar episode pondering my emotional state.

Ok, but for real, I’m a big fan of spring. It’s my third favorite season.

I like that the streets I drive down are now covered with bright green leaves overhead. They’re almost neon lime green, my favorite color. Just a week and a half ago I was looking out my window at the bare tree branches slightly swaying in the wind. Mind you, they were only swaying because this past week has been super windy, branches aren’t usually great swayers. And today, those branches are full of half-grown neon green beauties. I’ve got my window open so I can feel the wet air and hear the birds chirping. The paper drawings I have hung up on the walls are slightly wilting, worth it though. I’m a big window gal. I hate air conditioning, especially in my car. Most of the time no matter where I end up, my hair is a tousled mess from all my windows being open, and that’s how I like it…it’s also why I wear hats all the time. So, spring brings me several little joys.

I was pondering as I was driving through this particularly early grey and gloomy morning, thinking man, I would prefer that the sun was out thinking my drive would be more pleasant and enjoyable. I found it difficult to fully wake up, and my eyes remained in a half open, half closed, crescent shape. But then later, something happened. The damn sun came out, and it got hot. Like whoa humid hot compared to the chilly morning where I had my heat on in my car. This is when I noticed the trees. The past few days have been all rain. All gloom. All wet. Now, I could watch a thunderstorm for hours completely content, but when grey wetness continues for days, I find myself wishing for the sun and dry pavement. But this is the part of spring that is so important.

Spring needs those dark gloomy rain ridden days. That’s what makes spring, spring. Because without the rain we wouldn’t get those pretty yellow dots that cover our yard after one rainfall, even though they make my allergies go bazerk. Without the rain, our streets wouldn’t be singing. Without the rain, we might forget what plush feels like under our feet.

My point is, we need those dark days. I’m talking in one of those cliche metaphor voices now—in case you didn’t realize that I switched it up there… 

What makes things beautiful, what makes us beautiful, are the dark days. There the days of doubt, of sadness, of boredom, of hurt, of whatever not pleasant feeling that we feel sometimes. Becuase those days give us the nourishment that we need. I realize this is borderline contradictory, stay with me here though. Those days give us the urge, the power, the desires that we need to get to the place of neon lime green.

Spring has sprung, and so can we. Ha ha now THAT was a good one. People will tell you, give it time, it might take awhile. But also, if nobody has told you yet, one rainfall can bud some pretty badass flowers.