I tried not to make a big deal of it but, for those that didn’t happen by this morning, it was my last regular shift at the Unicorn. If this is news to you, know that it all happened quite suddenly, but know also that I will definitely not be a stranger, nor have I darkened the café’s door for the last time. I have gotten to know so many of you over the last two and a half years, and I must say: You’re quite an interesting, diverse, and classy bunch of folks. Keeping tabs with many of you on what your children are up to, what tests you’re cramming for, and what books you recommend is a daily pleasure, and I appreciate so much that, by and large, you’ve collectively shown an interest in us baristas as people, and not just coffee-slinging proles. It’s what’s made me never question the choice to commit to a locally-owned, one-of-a-kind business over the bureaucracy and gratuitous protocol of a global chain. Although I’ll only be there to serve you on the occasional weekend–the Unicorn’s door never really shuts behind you–I’m still going to be in the neighborhood and, more likely than not, will often be seen stopping by on my way home for a cup of coffee and a slice of internet. In fact, earlier this week, I did just that for perhaps the very first time and now I understand why so many of you love to come and sit. It really is a terrific coffeehouse and it was an honor to be a part of its family.
If I may ask anything of you in my absence, it’s that you please continue your loyal patronage to Tracie’s business. I’m sure you already know that Evanston would be a much duller place without a zany, indie café in it, where the soup is homemade and hot java runs like the river Jordan, so keep coming in and ensure the immortality of this mythical beast. I’ll see you around.
(The title of this post, btw, comes from Juan Ramón Jiménez, in case you were wondering.)