Coffee House Culture

The unearthing of coffee house culture began with a note from a friend, “Ken, if you are poking around Lynchburg killing time at all this week, check out Inklings Bookshop!”  For the next couple of days I held my breath in expectation of spending the afternoon browsing for books, drinking coffee and enjoying the atmosphere inspired by C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien.  The “Inklings” were an informal literary discussion group who met weekly to read aloud their unfinished compositions. 

Locating a place in an unfamiliar city can be nerve wracking, and this day was no exception.  The shop was nowhere in sight, so I parked the car and began the search on foot.  Just ahead I spotted the Black Water Coffee Company.  Maybe they could point me in the right direction. 

Black Water Coffee Company is a small hole in the wall room tucked away in the front corner of twenty storey building.  It has limited seating with only a couple of tables but is none-the-less inviting.  Dark blue walls provide a backdrop for the sale of handmade pottery and art.  A stained glass image hangs in the window and folksy music plays loud enough to fill the room but not too loud to be annoying.  Behind the counter all the necessary ingredients are available to make a designer cup of coffee. 

“I’m looking for the Inklings Bookstore,” I said to the barista.  “That place closed six months ago.”  What a letdown.  “I used to work there,” she goes on to tell me.  “What was it like?”   “People came in and discussed things.  It was natural to join in on conversations.”  “Bible studies at the church tend to funnel down into a specific direction with little room for discussion,” someone adds.  I am reminded of Phil Yancey’s observation, “In the United States, Christians tend to create subcultures, reading their own books, listening to their own music, educating their own children in their own schools.  Little cross-fertilization takes place between that subculture and the wider, secular culture.”

I decided to settle in for the afternoon.  Do a little reading but mostly spy…taking notes, observing particulars, scouring the coffee house to get clues of its culture.     

Mike and his girlfriend come in right away.  They are young in their twenties.  Definitely regulars.  The barista finishes her shift and sits down at the bar with them for lunch.  Eventually Mike disappears.  “So Mike is leaving town?” the barista questions.  “Yeah, he is going to pick blueberries.  I think it will be good for him.”  Another twenty something strides in wearing a black T, jeans and work boots.  His arms are covered with tattoos.  “Rabble,” he says to the group in general and no one in particular.  He orders his drink then enters into the discussion.  “I’m leaving town to work on an oil rig serving food,” he says.  Evidently everyone is leaving town for work, I think.

“Cooper!” the name rings out with enthusiasm as Cooper comes through the door.  No wonder these people gather here with such excitement for their presence.  “How did you like the Mexican iced coffee?”  Others wander in, order drinks, and leave.  Some stay and surf the internet.  Almost all converse.   “Why it’s the muffin man!” rings out another greeting.  “It is the muffin man,” comes the reply.  The muffin man is wearing a short beard, close cropped hair while keys dangle from his side.  “I’m starting grad school in the fall,” he says.  “Very cool, man.”  “After that I’ll be a lazy professor for the rest of my life.”

Later in the afternoon the water and coffee take over, and I have to take a nature break.  “Do you have a restroom?” I ask.  “Yeah, it’s on the 8^th floor.  The elevator is just around the corner.”  That’s a first for me, of all the coffee houses I’ve visited nationally and internationally none have had an 8^th floor restroom.  Each has its own charm I guess. 

“What’s happening, Kyle?  How’s your wife?”  Kyle has a red hoodie pulled over his head and begins spilling out a story of his wife.  “We had to rush her to the hospital.  Then rush her to another one.  It was scary, but the little dude is fine.”  “I’m so glad to hear everybody is good,” the barista says, “I’m so happy for you.”  

The people and conversations go on and on as the afternoon comes to a close and I come to a conclusion.  A coffee house is not only about drinking coffee. It’s more importantly about the atmosphere and culture the proprietor creates.  A café provides a place for community togetherness much like the county store, fitness gym, beauty shop or local restaurant.  Regulars stop in, news is shared, encouragement is given and ideas are discussed.  For us it can be the perfect place to break out of the Christian ghetto and rub shoulders with a wide strand of a Christ needy society.