I Gots Me A Local

One of the best aspects of moving to a new city, and knowing that you will be there for a time, is developing relationships of all kinds, social, intellectual, environmental and of course emotional. All those things that make for a well rounded experience and individual are also all the ingredients of ya local mate. Now, traditionally, in New Holland speak, this title is reserved exclusively for a watering hole, I am applying here, in the spirit of tastefulness to my SF coffee shop. Coming from the coffee capital of Australia has given me licence to blow my wanker kerchief to wipe the runny snobbery away when its comes to crema and of all the stereotypes of America that has been gleefully dispelled in my time here, shit coffee is one that definitely holds up.  I don’t know if its the myriad of caffeinated options you have (vanilla malt spiced pumpkin latte? Cheese n flippin rice) that leave you buried in quality, destined to burn in perpetual overreach, or the fact that its socially acceptable to keep, and consume, reheated acrid ash water from a pot, locked in eternity to a fate of boil after boil.  But, thank the haughty, macchiato sippin gawds of froth, I found a goodun. And while it costs 5 smackers and I need to constantly rebuff the sales pitch of an 11 dollar pastry accompaniment, the barista makes teddy bear faces in my latte.

Max Favetti
mfavetti@mail.sfsu.edu
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