I was just on my regular walk to the station and was hit by an overwhelming desire to open a coffee shop. It wasn’t just a fleeting thought, it stuck with me for a good five minutes.
In that time I had come up with several names (WooWooCoolBastards, Cafe Days, Hoodoo) and tried to work out how I could get an extended license so I could start putting on open mic nights and a quiz night and maybe even have a couple of bands on at the weekend and then I could get an alcohol license but I would only sell one kind of beer and Jack Daniels. We would do proper coffee from a machine but also ‘dishwater coffee’ at 50p a cup so students could come in and have somewhere and not be turfed out because they didn’t have £3 for a coffee like other places. I’d have a bookshelf that had copies of all the best books and people could borrow them if they left something for the cafe behind.
I would perform at the open mic and organise the quiz and live in a little flat above and there would be no set opening and closing times, it would just be what I felt like and the music would be whatever I felt like. I could sit in there and write, finally comfortable that there was a coffee shop I wouldn’t get leered at simply because it was shelter to write in because I would be the owner and everyone would know it.
All of this ran through my head and then I got on the train and realised it wouldn’t happen.