Power Outlets: Yes.
Wi-Fi: Yes, fast.
Noise Level: Low for the most part.
Coffee: Two thumbs.
Hours: 7am- 7pm
Patrons: Twenty-nothings or thirty-somethings in overpriced white tees and cardigans.
There are alcoves of West Village that no tourist will ever touch, where the streets cross and lunch at any restaurant could cost you upwards of $50; where there are an unprecedented number of magazine stores. It’s chic but not quite TriBeCa sleek. And, embedded between the world’s most expensive vintage stores and Tavern on Jane, there’s a pleasant little coffee shop with a brick wall and a tapestry that I’m reluctant to share with anyone.
The grey painted wood compliments the neutral sweater-clad patrons and the spa music calms the 3 pm coffee runners. The coffee is fresh and satisfying. I heard a man audibly sip-and-ah his latte on the cozy window bench bubbling over with throw pillows. There’s nothing rebelious about the shop or the coffee, but it’s perfectly productive.