Two of my favorite people to see first thing are the coffee shop brother/sister duet at Kilim (that’s kuh-leem, not kill ’em).
Silk strings cover unfinished floors and postcards paper beams. (Lady-bums in lycra on 80’s ocean sand, back when bottoms had some plum and came in twos and threes).
It’s basically impossible to get coffee here the way I take it – organic espresso with steamed unsweetened almond milk (also organic). Perhaps that makes the energy of the situation apparent. I would rather go here first thing than anywhere else in town – any one of the many that accommodate my preference and crank out all varieties of self-centered hot drinks. Because what is here is weather and story. Long skinny benches don’t pamper. They push people toward each other into conversation. Here, they don’t know my name, like the other places do (from writing it on cups and calling it out). But every time I go something happens.