Having said that, there are several places in the 405 where one can go to enjoy this combination. Where one chooses to go depends on what kind of experience one wants to have. If you're not interested in the quality of the coffee and are looking for unlimited refills and an inexpensive meal (not great food, but it won't kill you) you can go to IHOP. For a bottomless cup of coffee and decent food you can go to Panera. For a bottomless cup of coffee, good food and terrible service (at least it has been the last few times I've gone) you can go to Will's. For overpriced coffee and pastries you can go to Starbuck's
But......for a cup of coffee for $1.40 per cup, overpriced "cutesy" food and a collection of angsty, artsy bohemian types you can go to the Red Cup. I met my friend Amy at the Red Cup after work last night (Friday) and our time there inspired this blog.
I don't really have anything against the Red Cup personally, but I just hate going there. Mostly it's the starving-artist-bohemian-hippy types that really make me dislike going here. Every generation since the original "summer of love" has had it's own group of these hygiene deficient youths hanging out, drinking coffee and writing (poetry, a novel, music). While they think they are being an "individual", they are oblivious to the fact that what they are doing is totally unoriginal. It drives me insane!!
And....on a side note: I'll admit I don't like having to pay full price for each cup of coffee, but I understand their reasoning stems from those who would come in and purchase one cup of coffee and stay for hours using the wifi. However, those customers just end up only drinking one cup of joe and staying all day anyway. I'm just sayin'........
Last night it was relatively quiet when we arrived and we chose to sit along the wall on a deceptively comfortable yellow, leather couch. Amy and I sat and visited for about an hour before even pulling out our laptops......during that time the staff started rearranging the furniture for the live music. The barrista stopped and asked if he could move the coffee table we were using and I said, "Only if the music is fantastic." I shouldn't have said it.
[This is Amy posing in front of the painting which was hung behind our couch]
As the start time for the live music approached, a crowd began to gather. I was hopeful it meant the music would be enjoyable....even in such a small space. Since I like to watch people, I began to notice a few things. The number of floor length skirts was amazing. There were lots of tie-dyed articles of clothing and the smell of patchouli was in the air. Everyone seemed to know the musician, so I surmised they were friends coming to support him (very nice, indeed and probably gained them some good karma). One guy had extremely long dreads dangling out from under a grungy stocking cap (hand knitted by his tie-dye clad girlfriend, I'm sure).......and the entire time he was there, he kept taking his index finger and digging down through the dreads to scratch at his scalp. (I have news for you buddy......your head was itching because it's dirty!) But.....I digress.
As the crowd grew larger and spilled from the adjacent "room" to the standing room in front of our couch, I noticed a few exasperated looks being thrown our way. By this time, Amy and I were both on our second cup of full priced coffee and had almost finished our hummus (served with a toasted sub loaf as the bread, I might add). We had pulled out our laptops and were doing a bit of light surfing and were content in the fact we couldn't see the singer from our seats, so his friends wouldn't have wanted to sit there anyway.
Of the roughly 40 people who crammed in to hear the music, I'd say maybe 6 or 7 ordered something.......the rest just took up the chairs and tables without spending a dime. [did I mention at this point in the evening, Amy and I had spent $5.20 just on coffee?] And then.....the music started.
To say he was "okay" would be lying. His "original" songs consisted of the chords he knew best being repeated over and over and over and over and over...........most of the songs seemed as if they were instrumentals, but in reality, they were just songs with the longest intros known to man. And then, when he sang........well, I almost have no words to describe it....almost! To be kind, his voice was horrible. Although he was playing a tuned guitar, he couldn't find the key to save his life. He sang about 6 original songs and then began a long monologue to introduce his last song of the evening (praise Jesus!). I can't remember the name of the song, but he took 5 minutes to explain to everyone the reason he was doing a "cover" was because it was his favorite song by his favorite band and he would never be able to do it justice (see......I just gave the same info he did in 15 seconds. It's not difficult). I was hopeful it would be the best song of the night since he had someones example to follow.......but oh! I was wrong. I pulled out my phone and recorded what I could see and hear from my perch on the couch. I didn't edit the recordings at all and I know it's not the best quality, but I really wanted to share it.
Enjoy:
This clip is the only instrumental song he played, but it's a good example of the repetitive nature of his writing style.
This second clip is a short clip to showcase his singing "ability"
Oh how this made me giggle! I've never been here, but it gave me flashbacks to a place that Stephanie Marquardt took me back in the B&N days. It was on Classen...oh, what was the name?? It may still be there, I don't know. But even if it's not....I'm sure the patchouli still lingers.
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