Cappuccinos, conversations at Aroma Cafe

So here I am: new coffee shop, new musings. It’s the third week of school, and between reading Aristotle and listening to Vivaldi’s “Four Seasons,” I have yet to muster the energy to leave the Upper West Side. I’m sitting here at Aroma Espresso Bar on 72nd Street between Amsterdam and Columbus, enjoying an absolutely delicious cappuccino and catching up with an old friend.
This is a café at its finest, although it could not be more different than my last caffeine-driven adventure to the candle-filled Max Caffé. The white walls of this two-story café are laden with simplistic drawings of stoplights, subway signs, taxis, and even the occasional head of lettuce.

As a crowd of mostly after-work professionals and graduate students sit on the leather couches and orange modern chairs, their laptops at the ready, I’d like to think I blend in well with my MacBook and fake reading glasses, but my purple shirt and “Little Mermaid” necklace might give me away.

This wouldn’t normally be my first choice for a studying (or procrastinating) destination, but it holds a certain significance for me and my visiting friend, so here I am. And now that I’m here I’m seriously reconsidering my prejudices against more modern-looking coffee shops­. The café is spacious yet comfortable. The hum of other conversations and the plethora of hotties that I normally look for in a coffee shop are gone, but maybe that’s not such a bad thing. I’m focusing much better than I thought I would. Not even craving a cigarette—yet.

Amy Winehouse and Keane music videos are playing on a flat screen TV, albeit a bit too loudly to be conducive to any serious reading. But still, the Wi-Fi access is free and wonderfully fast. The air conditioning feels like a gift from the heavens compared to my stuffy room in Wien. And on top of all of that, the coffee is wonderful.

It’s not just the coffee, but the foam as well. The foam atop my cappuccino is thick and creamy, nothing like that bubbly junk that some places sneak into the drinks of caffeine-craving Americans
every morning.

Maybe I was kidding about not yet craving a cigarette. This week, it’s a Marlboro No. 27 that’s calling my name.

In the two prior installments of my column, I’ve spent the day in coffee shops with people I know. But, suddenly, I am alone again. Alone with my thoughts and that strange man next to me in the tweed jacket who now feels no qualms about voicing his opinions on each and every music video that plays on the screen. A con to working alone? I think not. I’m usually the one that strikes up these random conversations, and it’s nice to be the victim once in a while. Makes me reconsider my own techniques for “attacking” people, as my friends would call it.

Before I lose track too much and start going off about New Yorkers’ willingness to talk to random strangers, let me get back to Aroma.

Aroma is awesome, and I’m not just saying that because I’m nearing my word limit. I’d highly recommend it, especially for those who find the clutter and dim lighting stereotypical of late night coffee shops to be a bit distracting. This place is open daily until 11 p.m., and while you may not meet the love of your life, you’ll definitely be able to get some work done in a fun and different environment, while listening to the best that Winehouse has to offer. Plus, the bathroom has one of the coolest sinks I’ve ever seen.

Good night and happy travels, my fellow addicts.