Monday, November 26, 2012

Black (Rock) Friday

Back in high school, my friends and I would sometimes sneak past the apoplectic little rent-a-cop whose job it was to keep us on school grounds, and go hang out at the now-defunct Cafe Tazza in Fairfield.

Cafe Tazza was up the hill from the movie theatre, and I remember it as a small, vaguely European, and usually empty place. It's almost hard to remember now, but in the early 90s no one in suburbia (or maybe no one anywhere) was using coffee-shops as their office in the middle of the afternoon. So Tazza was a pretty good hiding place.

On the day after Thanksgiving, while the adult equivalents of the high school crowd we'd wanted to avoid were fighting each other for the last size XXS sweater in the Gap, we skipped Black Friday and went to Port Coffeehouse in Black Rock. Small, cozy, with warm brick walls and employees who seem blissfully unaware that this part of Bridgeport has careened over the verge of trendiness it's been on for well over a decade. New Lower Fairfield County hiding place, found.

1 comment:

  1. I love everything about this post.

    It's hard to remember that coffee shops used to be more fringe.



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