A gorgeous coffee warms your soul, feeds your burning desire for a smooth, rich bitter-sweet sip of a finely crafted espresso. The sensory system chimes and you sip it slowly or as they do it Italy, very quickly. Either way it feels all good. The morning begins with blue skies and a cigarette puff swirls in smoke, as my neighbor draws on his ivory cigarette holder. He is dressed smartly in a blue suit, pin stripes and double-breasted.
He talks to his newspaper, mumbling about the sports page and his horse bets. Oddly a regular customer with a job in the nearby Gucci shop. He probably spends all his money on girly magazines.Somehow he doesn’t belong here as the young crowd stares at his weird stance, a cowboy with some crooked teeth.
I pick up my cell as it rings, a voice on the other end gives me descriptions of last night’s dinner. My food assistant chases down the next treat, an obscure little corner with customized sushi.
I cannot be distracted by this now, my coffee shouts focus. Here I am in the fashionable neighborhood in Tokyo, alone, just my coffee and some background classical music. I collect my thoughts as a quick caffeine hit settles in.
The days are grower older just like us, the coffee stays young, the nights grow long. The fall lights warm the skies, the people add the cheer. We expect the future of Japanese Coffee houses to change as the fashion changes from sit down, to more portable. Don’t let go of the past without hope for the future.
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