It’s a cocktail/coffee shop with nice cakes and affordable sandwiches. The staff is efficient and friendly, not just courteous, and not so chummy that it’s ok to forget a spoon with your chai. The furniture is worn, like that used chair you hated to get rid of because it was so comfortable but eventually wore out, and they recycled it with a little love and carefully, yet artfully applied upholstery. There are some love seats, and some deeper chairs, but most of the seating is movable and comfortable, while allowing access to coffee and work tables.

There are tapestries. Sure, they’re like the old stone castle wall hangings, but a bit more modern and eclectic. Long and printed with modern patterns, these separate the open windows and decorate the architectural sections of the environment. The sound in the rooms is muffled, so that you can still hear that there are other groups of people talking, but you can’t hear the conversation across the room echo off of cold concrete blocks. There are coves for small groups to meet and chat and throw in ideas. The lighting is not harsh, spotted so that it hits just the right places where you’d put your work. There are attractive, movable floor-standing lamps, just in case.

There are outlets at every seat. There is flawless, high-speed, free wifi, with a basic login page used simply to remind you of who provides it. Fold-up TV tables are available at the counter in case you need another table or two for all your stuff.

A reasonably-sized small loaning library of circulating paper books is shelved in a corner, housing the latest pop-social books and books of other interest to the repeat clientele. A small magazine rack with fresh daily copies of the big two newspapers sits nearby.

The counter is a glass case with desserts and snacks on display under obviously cheap fluorescent lighting. On top sits the antique-looking cash register, a gilded metal construction with a window at the top for the numeric sign totals to pop up within. Behind the counter are the contraptions of a small restaurant kitchen, including some cutting surfaces, a sink, several under-counter coolers, a microwave, and a soda fountain. Above the counter on shelves are bottles of liquors for afternoon and evening service. A fridge contains a reasonable selection of bottled beer, and a three-tap fountain provides enough of a draught selection to satisfy most people – none of that Budweiser pablum, though. One of those large and complicated-looking espresso machine sits on the counter next to the taps, ready to concoct whatever caffeinated beverage will keep you going for the day.

At lunch they serve a handful of sandwich recipes on artisanal breads, with fresh meats and cheeses. Vegetarian options are also regular. The special changes daily and is always tasty. There are soups every day, if you like that sort of thing, and a couple of types of salad, if you don’t. There are fresh-baked cookies, not made on the premises, from the owner’s special recipe. You can’t have one every day, or you’ll spoil your taste for anything sweet at all.

In the evening, after 6pm, the fare doesn’t change much, but they do add small gourmet pizzas to the menu. The pizzas are personally-sized, and come with toppings unusual in chain pizza joints, like chicken, feta, green olives, scallops, pulled pork, and marinated portabellos. The atmosphere changes somewhat to include ambient music over a well-designed sound system. The music is at just the right level to be there to fill the space, but not overpower conversations.

Sometimes, evenings have reserved events. The floorspace is cleared for folding chairs and a projector. Sometimes they show old black-and-white scifi and comment MST3K-style. Sometimes they show classic cult or camp films. Sometimes there are presentations for meetups and speakers with authority, or at least, notoriety.