By Griffin Frerichs, Staff Writer
One thing about me is that I love a cup of Joe. I know that this in no way makes me unique, but I like to think that it does. I tend towards a plain drip coffee, an americano, or a cortado—call me an old man, I don’t gaf. As fall rolls through, maybe you choose to indulge in a PSL. If you have a lot of work to do, you might order your favorite with another shot or two (or three) of espresso. Whatever it may be, your coffee order is like a well-intentioned intern that lied on their resume. Your coffee order is “dynamic” and “able to adapt” to whatever the workplace might throw at it. More than anything, your coffee order is keen that its “combination of education and past work experience has prepared” it to serve you, personally and individually.
As of late, I’ve been reaching for my French press before I even roll out of bed. If you’ve got a stupid amount of meal swipes left and have already stuffed yourself silly with cookies, chips, and Umami sushi, then you order Azzie’s. Other times you may want to treat yourself, so you walk over to Slow Train or The Local. These places are inherently different in their merits, but all of them are dedicated to the secular cult of caffeination.
One morning, sipping my bean water, I found myself uncertain and destitute. What is coffee? I shuddered. Who is coffee? I closed my eyes. Upon their unhinging, I was in the dank basement across from The Feve—apologies, I mean The Local—and engaged in conversation with a barista named Sofia.
These interviews have been edited for length and clarity.
Griffin Frerichs: What do you like about working here?
Sofia Scherer: I love coffee. I drink it every morning. It’s one of my favorite parts of the day. I’ve drank coffee since I was too young to be drinking it—since ten or something. I really enjoy working here. I think my coworkers are awesome. Most of them are students. I really enjoy being a part of the broader Oberlin community because I get to know students and community members. I just really enjoy it. It’s social. It’s fun.
Sofia presented herself as plenty pleasant but it was obvious that our conversation was not her priority. I told her my name when I introduced myself, but periodically she would yell out random names. She also spent way too much time talking about “tamping.” I’m not sure I want to know what that is. And, most egregiously, she tried selling me on these absolutely ridiculous upcharges. Almond milk, soy milk, oat milk. How dumb do you think I am? How do you milk an oat? (jk Sofia was actually really chill guys.) Okk, moving on—I also talked to Madeline of the acclaimed Slow Train, who calls herself the “D1 barista on campus.” She was fresh off a shift and brought me pastries, which did not at ALL bias my reporting.
GF: What goes into being a good barista?
Madeline Keenan: Good customer service is really important. I had to read Unreasonable Hospitality for my [barista] job at home, which is this book about how to maximize customer service to a point where it’s unreasonable. I think you can be a bad coffee maker and still have good customer service and be a good barista.
GF: Do you view yourself as a sort of sorcerer?
MK: I wouldn’t say sorcerer, but once I had a conversation with one of my regulars about how the Renaissance couldn’t have happened without coffee. Think about it. During that time scholars would exchange ideas over coffee. Coffee shops are the ultimate social place. You exchange ideas, you meet your friends, you talk about things. So, not a sorcerer but maybe a puppet master of ideas.
Ok, so, Madeline is not only a reader of books, but also a historian and mass manipulator of the Oberlin public.
GF: Someone comes in and gets a cortado—what do they look like?
MK: Ooh, a cortado is someone wearing a cardigan. They appreciate coffee but don’t have the stomach for straight espresso. Also, if you’re coming in and getting straight espresso, you’re so performative and you think that you know so much about coffee when you don’t. I like that baristas can be judgmental. When someone orders a fuckass drink, just know that all the baristas are going behind the bar afterwards and talking about it. We talk about everyone’s orders. It happens.
Shitt, she threw all that customer service malarkey out the window and onto the street.
Lastly, I spoke to Ella. Working at The Local, Slow Train, and Azzie’s, she’s got some serious credentials.
GF: Can you personify these three different places?
Ella Modan: Azzie’s would be on three different substances and just pound it. The Local—I’m thinking performative male. He’s underground and you have to look out for him. It’s literally an underground place. Slow Train is not necessarily a cheerleader but maybe a granola person—crunchy.
GF: What order is a red flag?
EM: Definitely people who order a half shot decaf. Half shot decaf Americano—what is your deal? You don’t like coffee and that’s ok. You don’t like the taste of coffee and you can get something else and nobody will judge you. That’s the kind of person that I don’t think I’d be friends with.
GF: Do all these places have merit?
EM: Yeah, I think so. I mean, I know that some people wish we were faster at Slow Train, and maybe people wish we were more personable at Azzie’s, but I think [that] for what they are, they are all good.
Ella’s got a point. We can love coffee for coffee and we don’t gotta go throwin’ stones. Drink what you like, treat customer service workers like human beings, and, for the love of God, tip your barista!
