Landon Pigg

12410

I’m finally doing it.
Losing my Isolated Writer virginity.
The lucky specimen?
Common Grounds Coffeehouse on Hawthorne and 43rd.

Writing in a coffee shop…one of life’s simple pleasures. The smell of scalding hot water rushing through finely ground beans. The sound of hot pressurized air streaming into whole milk. You don’t even have to drink the coffee to taste the deep robustness, or slurp a cappuccino to feel the dense creamy foam.

What have I been waiting for all these years?!
Convenience.

Living in Gladstone is just not conducive to a spontaneous lifestyle. You have to plan. And though I’m accustomed to using my car to get anywhere inspiring, the price of gas really makes you think twice about cruising 20-30 miles just to get a cup of coffee and relax. So…home is pretty much my coffeehouse.

It’s revitalizing to have a change of scenery once in a while. New atmosphere, new ideas.

I like this place. A lot.
Salmon colored cement walls. Exposed ceiling beams painted deep teal. Whimsical clear glass light bulbs dangling down from the ceiling (my mom would call these orny because they’re so cute in their perfectly spherical perfection); they look like fireflies.

Lamps stand upright from the floor and funky acrylic paintings adorn the walls. Old books and antiques sit atop a wall ledge. An old hefty brick abutment stands erect behind the front counter. Overstuffed couches and chairs upholstered in damask patterned velvet. Chocolate brown. Mossy green. Blue slate.

Little round wooden tables with little wooden chairs populate the center of the room. Plant life positioned in all the right places. Every person reading the paper or a novel, or working on his Mac.

I think I’m in love.