My husband and I are creatures of habit, and our Friday night habit doesn’t vary much. It starts with a stop (say what?) at Kybecca for their Friday night wine tasting. Next, we walk around one of the residential neighborhoods downtown for about an hour, the pace varying with our mood, from a brisk walk to a leisurely stroll to a lethargic shuffle. Occasionally, and if the night is warm and the walk has been energetic enough that we feel we’ve earned it, we might stop for ice cream at Lee’s (excuse me, Wally’s) on Caroline Street. But usually, our last stop is Hyperion, the local coffee shop where we sit and chat for an hour or so over a cup of decaf, and see if anyone we know stops by. Hyperion is a prime spot for impromptu meetings and study groups, there’s a rotating display of local artists’ work in the “upstairs” room, and the outside tables accommodate smokers and dog-owners. The coffee shop in America has become our equivalent of the Italian piazza, where you can hang out for hours, watch the world go by, and always run into a few familiar faces. Always a relaxing way to kick off the weekend.
Here's the original part of the shop, where the baristas toil.
And here's the newer room, up a few steps, with the current display of artwork by local watercolorist Jim Ellis.