Welcome To Epicenter Cafe

First off, around here they serve the coffee using real sizes: small, medium, large. Single or double shot for espresso. These are words that actually describe volumes. Do not order a coffee drink using non-volume words. Words like “tall” or “grande” aren’t volume words. Well, okay, “grande” is, if you are ordering in Spanish. But “venti” — that’s not any kind of word at all. If you order a coffee drink using non-volume words, the staff will point you in the direction of the Starbucks on Fourth and Mission.

Those carafes next to the espresso machine hold the different drip coffees that they serve. Yes, three types. One decaf, one light-bodied, one full-bodied. When you order drip coffee, they ask you which type you want. It’s okay not to know exactly which one you want; most people don’t. “Whichever is darker,” “whichever is milder,” and “whichever you recommend” are all right answers. Looking blankly at the server like he or she is a moron, or “Coffee. Just gimme some goddam freakin’ coffee!” are wrong answers. If you give a wrong answer, the staff will point you in the direction of the Kwikee Mart on Market and Ninth.

Over at the register is Clarissa. Pretty, isn’t she? Clarissa is friendly, efficient, and always acts pleased to see you. That’s because she’s paid to. Do not mistake this for actual interest. If she wants to see more of you, she will let you know. If you monopolize her time with pointless conversation or stare too hard at her personal body parts, the rest of the staff will point you in the direction of the gentleman’s club on Howard and New Montgomery.

Important stuff: the power plugs are there, there, and behind here. Wireless is free, but really only works reliably in the back of the cafe. On the back couch, you will usually find one of the regulars, Kara. Kara is an independent documentary filmmaker. She comes here to write grant proposals and read email because her apartment on Alabama Street is right on top of a shop that sells hand made tortillas. The smell of the masa, the loud mariachi music, and the jokes that the tortilla makers shout back and forth to each other all day make her a little bit crazy. Kara is not paid by Epicenter to be friendly, or to act pleased to see you, so she doesn’t. Do not try to engage her in idle coffeehouse chatter. Do not ask her opinion about the latest version of iMovie. Do not ask her why you haven’t seen any of her films on Netflix. She and her distributor are working on that, but she’s never in the mood to talk about it.

The man sitting alone at the six-person table near the power plug is Lance. Lance is a “serial entrepreneur,” which is kind of like being a serial killer, except Lance butchers business ideas and PowerPoint presentations, not 22-year olds. He says his latest project is “in the Lexus-Nexus space, with a Facebook twist,” whatever that means. Lance always hogs one of the big tables for himself; that pisses the rest of us off. Always make sure to “share” Lance’s table every chance you get. Lance is here like clockwork during Clarissa’s shifts. Just the other day, we heard him telling her about his new Cockapoo — that’s a Cocker Spaniel/Poodle mix. He named it Cuvee. A French (poodle) blend, get it? Clarissa didn’t think it was clever. Clarissa grew up in Scranton, Pennsylvania. In Scranton, they don’t name Cocker Spaniel/Poodle mixes “Cuvee”, or call them “Cockapoos.” They call them “mutts.”

See the man on the front couch, about 50, with glasses and a receding hairline? That’s Milton. Milton teaches 11th grade Chemistry three days a week at Our Lady of Infinite Mercy all-girls’ Catholic School in Daly City. On his days off, to soothe his jangled nerves, he knits. He knits toques, and scarves, and socks and sweaters, which he gives away to friends or donates to Project Open Hand. Right now, he is knitting earmuffs for Kara, for those days when she can’t get out of bed before the tortilla factory starts up. Milton is also an active member of the Folsom Street Motorcycle Club. He rides a chopper bigger than my entire apartment, and carries his wallet and keys on a heavy-gauge chain that could crush an elephant’s skull. Be very nice to Milton. Make sure to admire his handiwork. If you offend Milton, the staff will call 911, and Emergency Medical Services will point you in the direction of San Francisco General, on Potrero and 22nd.