the space, the place, i love love love. the people who occupy that space, namely the lady workers, is what drove me from this place for nearly a year.
the inside is cavernous with books and knick knacks and records and shizz thrown together to create the dark, somehow chaotic and calm space i so happily inhabit. there's an outside too! a nice one! with a nice-sized covered bit as well as an uncovered...if you're into the elements.
with cheap and tasty iced coffee and beer deals, i can readily get work done or start a hilarious conversation with any myriad of fellow strange strangers or play board games with my frandz.
you're likely to hear/see some sort of performance or at the very least, see people who look like they all belong together enter with instruments, so that's cool.
now the bad. the dirty bad. without seriously getting into the petty, the bar workers, all female at the time, would be so downright rude to me, they eventually got to a place where they would talk ABOUT me IN FRONT of me! now, other than our brief interactions of money and product exchange, i did not know these ladies and still cannot fathom how or why they felt alright with acting so abysmally..especially at their place of work.
the other day, i decided to come back and had a very pleasant time. the barkeep, a dude who i imagine is named samuel or benjamin or the like, was appropriately cute and friendly and helpful. watched some weird movie in the back as i nommed on fries. and got to be one of two audience members of a white rap collective and AND learned that they have a credit card machine which, they've apparently had for a year! (the wenches always told me there was none)
tl;dr: go when the sun is still out, have a time, and steer clear of the wenches. :)