A self-described 70-year-old grump from Madison, Wis., Dave Jahr, has urged the investors behind The Crabby Coffee Shop to open a franchise in his neck of the woods so he doesn’t have to drive so far. He also wants decaf available because his ulcer gets cranky when he drinks the high-octane stuff.
What chord this Crabby Coffee Shop has struck, for my money, boils down to essentially that: the well-being of our fellow souls in a world absolutely consumed by B as in B and S as in S.
You don’t get that at the Crabby Coffee Shop. No happy talk. You get coffee and with it the realization that you are a sound and well-suited citizen of the country and you don’t need us to ask you how you feel, what your plans are for the weekend or how the kids are doing. It’s not that we don’t care; it’s more to the point that … Actually, we don’t care. Those things are your problem.
Now, based on the recommendations of so many people from across the country who apparently are eager for such an establishment, we are prepared to engage in some fine-tuning. You want mugs. That came through loud and clear. You don’t want double-stacked paper cups because the damn coffee is so hot you can’t even hold the cup. You got it. Thick mugs of a color I would call Old English White. And we will buy our mugs from an American mug factory. We have people looking right now.
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