if you go the other way off of congress avenue from the bars, rock clubs, and bat caves you will stroll through what, in the heat of the day, is an unbearable wasteland, and as i did not chance it at night, i can only assume, a dark, unbearable wasteland. there is a noodle place right on congress avenue where during lunch i told an associate of plans to develop this website. associates are strange, they arent colleagues, they arent friends, and any entrée to the sheaf of personal papers beyond the front page is made with a certain hesitancy. it was clear he thought the idea was tight but was unsure how much enthusiasm to show. i would have preferred to return to safe ‘work-related’ territory but the envelope had been breached so we sat in intermittent silence broken by his suggestions of names for the site, one of which made the ‘wild card’ list! he became so wrapped up that he asked a noodler where a decent independent shop was in the area. we were pointed toward halcyon coffeehouse, the place in which, saints be praised, i had planned to spend the afternoon reading a text before i discovered that i would be shadowed through the afternoon.
this cozy shop near the noodle restaurant, in the aforementioned badlands, is fitted out with an adaptively reused charm that serves the type well. the raised loading docks of fourth street serve as a nice patio area and give the place a distinction from the street, as if it knows that it is superior to the blah that it floats in (it will also give a good view of the top 3 floors of the new federal courthouse c.2010). it isnt what i would characterize as a bookish shop, nor is it overly magazinish. one could imagine a harper’s before a dwell but a t.c. boyle before a j.k. huysmans. any text would have been welcome to present an exit from staccato conversation. it was not the place’s fault that i couldn’t chat but my own trepidation and unwillingness to present myself as a pleasant companion that might be open to many future coffee-takings. the place was actually an ideal coffeehouse and could certainly summon halcyon memories of archetypal coffeeshops across the board. unfortunately it could not bolster my wooden personality. the music in the place and the necessity that i acutely observe the joint gave me a respite from conversation and an opportunity to imbibe in silence. o, i could see myself getting comfortable enough to tote a fine text up in there if i were summoned to austin solo someday. i could have done without the barristas wearing shorts but i guess it was like 600 degrees out yonder.
