While I was in school in Kansas City, I made it an almost weekly ritual to walk to my favorite coffeehouse, The Broadway Cafe. I would go mid-morning and stay for a couple hours, working on schoolwork of course, but the environment was what stimulated me. Saturday and Sunday mornings at 9a.m. Broadway was buzzing. The smell of freshly roasted beans filled the air and an eclectic playlist amused the ears. It wasn't uncommon for me to run into dozens of familiar faces due to its proximity to campus. I would also see many people who, like me, made a habit of coming there regularly. I have yet to have a latte that rivaled the look and quality of the ones I ordered at Broadway. The delicate heart or leaf drawn on top of the crema would show until the last sip. A few months ago a friend introduced me to another one of these coffeehouses. As we poured over sketchbooks filled with stories from passersby, I was reminded of days spent at The Broadway Cafe.
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