Monday, April 24, 2006
In the Pocket
Maybe it was the endorphins, or maybe the sunshine... As I ended my morning run, I dropped into Murky Coffee. Ever since my office moved on up from Capitol Hill to Downtown DC, something has been missing. I have Murky Coffee beans in my fridge, waiting to welcome me into the waking world as I grind them each day. So the beans aren’t what’s missing. What could it be?
I’d finished up a beautiful run in the morning sun. As I ran down North Carolina, past the soon to open, new “neighborhood coffee shop,” I could already hear the sound of the espresso maker pumping out some of the best espresso for some of the tastiest bean drinks this city has ever seen. The smooth flavor of a soy latte from Murky can’t be beat. Certainly not by a Starbuck’s. And of course, only at Murky do you find Carlos, the one-man, espresso-art-making machine. So maybe it's the talent.
At Murky, the music is always right. Whether it’s the ambiance of Nina Simone drifting by, calming my post-run heart rate like a smooth stretch or The Clash pumping me up for a sweaty dart home, I always feel at home with that crisp white Murky Coffee cup in my hand. So maybe it’s the music.
I keep trying to put my finger on exactly what it is that makes me breathe a sigh of relief when I walk in the door. It’s a sigh like no other. The breath is almost like true relaxation which, for a caffeine addict such as myself, just doesn’t occur. So maybe it’s the wind as I open Murky's door.
Soon, as my spring pattern transitions into my summer routine, I find myself at Murky more and more. You might find clacking away on my iBook outside or reading my Vogue curled up inside in the rain. You might even find me in the company of some unexpected acquaintance. Wherever I am, you’ll find me there. So maybe it’s the familiarity, the comfort.
Odds are it’s everything. When you step into Murky, you might be complex and order a latte with syrup, skim and an extra shot. You might be simple and order the yummy Kenyan roast. You might even be chill and order some tea and a scone. The music could be any variation, from Nina to Nelly. The air could be stale, sweet or shade-grown; it doesn’t matter. I could be rushing in on the way to work or people-watching from behind the rail.
When I’m there, I'm a loyal Murky customer and I’m in the zone. Murky sets the track and I bob my head to its beat like the funky jazz they played last week. I relax or amp up, but whatever I do, I’m in the pocket. I’m ready for whatever Murky throws my way. And I’m looking forward to it.
I’d finished up a beautiful run in the morning sun. As I ran down North Carolina, past the soon to open, new “neighborhood coffee shop,” I could already hear the sound of the espresso maker pumping out some of the best espresso for some of the tastiest bean drinks this city has ever seen. The smooth flavor of a soy latte from Murky can’t be beat. Certainly not by a Starbuck’s. And of course, only at Murky do you find Carlos, the one-man, espresso-art-making machine. So maybe it's the talent.
At Murky, the music is always right. Whether it’s the ambiance of Nina Simone drifting by, calming my post-run heart rate like a smooth stretch or The Clash pumping me up for a sweaty dart home, I always feel at home with that crisp white Murky Coffee cup in my hand. So maybe it’s the music.
I keep trying to put my finger on exactly what it is that makes me breathe a sigh of relief when I walk in the door. It’s a sigh like no other. The breath is almost like true relaxation which, for a caffeine addict such as myself, just doesn’t occur. So maybe it’s the wind as I open Murky's door.
Soon, as my spring pattern transitions into my summer routine, I find myself at Murky more and more. You might find clacking away on my iBook outside or reading my Vogue curled up inside in the rain. You might even find me in the company of some unexpected acquaintance. Wherever I am, you’ll find me there. So maybe it’s the familiarity, the comfort.
Odds are it’s everything. When you step into Murky, you might be complex and order a latte with syrup, skim and an extra shot. You might be simple and order the yummy Kenyan roast. You might even be chill and order some tea and a scone. The music could be any variation, from Nina to Nelly. The air could be stale, sweet or shade-grown; it doesn’t matter. I could be rushing in on the way to work or people-watching from behind the rail.
When I’m there, I'm a loyal Murky customer and I’m in the zone. Murky sets the track and I bob my head to its beat like the funky jazz they played last week. I relax or amp up, but whatever I do, I’m in the pocket. I’m ready for whatever Murky throws my way. And I’m looking forward to it.
