In Which Commerce and Coffee Collide

 

Capital One, my credit card company of choice, is always looking out for me, fussing one might say. Recently the old dear sent me an email reminding me that they have a cafe here. Yeah, a cafe. It's a very odd idea to me too, sort of like if AT&T decided to open a laundromat.

The unlikely combination was enough to intrigue me and since I am always up for a latte and muffin combo, I decided to investigate. Also unlikely is its address since the cafe is located in Union Square, the absolute stratosphere of the retail experience. Stores there include Tiffany's, Prada, Cartier, Saks - the creme de la creme, the cremiest, in fact. Unfortunately, the decline of in-person shopping and the death knell that covid represented kicked Union Square very firmly right in the nuts. So I'm sure the Capital One Cafe was very welcome by some landlord somewhere, it just seems like it would make more sense to have it over by the big banks and financial institutions on Montgomery Street.

But I digress. Since I was going to be down in the middle of the Rich Bitch Turf, I decided to get a fancy manicure. It was worth the extra money, attentive without being fussy.  And my cuticles have never looked better. 

Plus the stairway to manicure heaven was absolutely charming. 

But mrpeenee, you demand impertinently, what about the cafe? Yeah yeah yeah, I'm getting there. I took my glossy nails and blasted off for the cafe experience. 

It's an odd building, sort of like the ground floor lobby of a skyscraper if the builders forgot to include the upper stories. I Just assumed they had made a conscious decision to make the architecture match the bizarreness of the cafe's concept. And what about the goods, the creamy espresso drinks and the tender flaky pastries? Here's my unbiased report: 

Oh hell no. 

I was only willing to consider this joint because it seemed like an amusing idea.  Standing in a long slow line was not part of my plan. Plus it was 2:00 on a Wednesday afternoon. What the fuck were all these people doing? Don't they have jobs? So how was the espresso and the muffin? We will never know because I realized that even if I were willing to put up with the line, there was no place to sit available.

All the tables were filled with boring looking people intent on their laptops. Maybe they were all writing screenplays, that would explain how they were able to hang out in a cafe during work hours. I fled.

Fortunately, I remembered that Neiman Marcus, the definitive Rich Bitch department store, was only two blocks away and they have one of my favorite afternoon teas in their fancy schmancy cafe.

It was delicious. It always is. So fuck Capital One and their ludicrous marketing scam. 

Boys I'd like to share a muffin with:

The boys of summer are back.

Everybody loves a good summer festival.

Speaking of the creme de la Creamy

Did I hear you looking for a DILF?

Ready for ravishing.

What adorable nutz.

In Which We Search

 

As I mentioned in last week's post, I continue to hunt for a replacement for my beloved Peet's, RIP.  Peet's, the world's finest cafe, was my daily outing until it closed at the end of January.  Since I'm doing my best to avoid becoming a literal shut-in, I need to find some place to go for my coffee and snack. 

Because I am a big-city boy, there is no shortage of candidates; I have four likely options in a one block radius of my front door.  Tragically, all of them come with at least one drawback.  Directly across the street is the charming Wooden Spoon, but they're actually more of a full full restaurant and not someplace just drop in for a muffin. 

We recommend the Eggs Benedict

At the end of my block, we find a pretentious little joint called Verve.  Every time I have been in there, I feel that I'm being judged and found lacking, and I am simply not cool enough for their aggressively strong coffee.

Thoroughbread's charmingly shabby patio.

Around the corner is the leading contender, Thoroughbread Bakery.  Aside from there their amusing name, they make the best lattes of any of the close places,  and a very tasty turkey sandwich.  Oddly enough, I find their baked goods sort of disappointing.  Still, they're leading the Peet's Replacement Derby. 

mrpeenee taking advantage of the balmy San Francisco weather, for which I pay so very goddamn much, to lounge outside at Epicurious.

Trailing along in last place is the very fancy little grocery, Epicurious.  They have a cafe with outdoor seating, which is very appealing during this warm spell we've been having.  Less appealing is the very thin and sour coffee they serve up.  Dudes, you're a cafe.  Do better. 

Also I need to tip my hat to my favorite, the Cafe du Soliel.  Delicious pastries, especially the cheese Danish, and definitive espresso drinks.  It's just too bad that they are a tiny bit too far away for a daily walk. 

The best thing about my exploration is that it reminds me that I live in an incredibly charming neighborhood in a beautiful city.  I have felt very much like a tourist trying out all these exotic places.  People pay serious money to come to San Francisco and experience what I get to do by just walking down the street.  I try to bear that in mind as I sample my way through an ocean of coffee. 

Naked guys:

This week we will be focusing more on muscle pussy, because that's mostly what I have available.  Quit complaining.

Besides his very superior butt chops, I also admire this lad's hairdo.

So appealing.

I was so struck by him, here's another.

Stop showing off.

Once again, mrpeenee is confronted with smut and focuses on the decorating therein.

Whee.  Also, wee.

How very voluptuous.

Always up for a good time.

In Which We Say Goodbye to an Old Friend

 

Goddamit

Yes it's true, my beloved Peet's, the world's finest cafe, is closing the location I go to every day.  So, once again, fuck 2025.  And before any of you get alarmed about mrpeenee's chronology problems, let me assure you I know it's technically now 2026, BUT 2025 is when the corporate buyout that led to this occurred.  First Trump gets reelected and then that. Goddamit. 

Peet's announced that its corporation had been consumed by a larger conglomerate headed up by Dr Pepper/ Keurig, which sounds like an evil business name from Saturday Night Live, but it's really real.  Keurig I can sort of understand since it's simply a coffee company buying out a competitor.  I suppose they don't need any cafes in their drive to choke the environment one tiny plastic container at a time. But Dr Pepper? What did I ever do to them?  Whenever I bump into DP in the wild I'm always vaguely surprised they're still around.  They seem like a remnant of my Southern childhood, an also ran in the the cola wars. Now I simply have a concrete grudge against them.

Since there are many, many days when stumbling down to get my daily cup o' Joe is the only reason I have to leave the house, I now need to find a replacement for Peet's. I'm researching possibilities, but all the candidates have some fatal flaw; they are too far away, or too fussy, or not fussy enough, or I have sworn eternal enmity against them and their bloodlines for some wrong they committed against me that no one but I remember.  Mostly, of course, the truth is simply that I am a cranky old man and I am opposed to change on principle.  I have outlived R Man, family, friends, people I love, cats, and now my cafe.  Give me a break, entropy. 

At least I still have naked guys:

Plein air pussy.

I refuse to worry about PhotoShop or AI encroaching on the world of smut.  I surrender.

Also, I sympathize with my readers trapped in the frozen waste of everywhere that isn't California.  Sorry guys.

I send Gianluigi Volti to help you through these frigid times.

Don't despair, spring is on the way.

When he hauls that hog out, I'm sure you can hear an audible "plop".

Ready for action.

In Which We Live the Cafe Life

 

When I was young and wild, I had a favorite bar, but now I have calmed down considerably and have a favorite cafe instead.  I'm sure soon I will be reduced to having a favorite doctor's waiting room.  So all that means I frequently mention my adventures in Peet's, the world's finest cafe.  When I was looking for an apartment, my primary requirement was being near Peet's, since real estate is all about location, location, location. The sweet place where I now hang my head popped up a block from Peet's and I was immediately sold.  I would have put up with rats and asbestos if I needed to, fortunately it turned out to be a lovely apartment. 

Being so close to the mecca of lattes and pastries means I can go there every single day.  And I'm glad I do, if it wasn't for Peet's, I would have long since turned into a shut-in talking to my cat even more than I already do.  Not that I actually speak to anyone at the cafe, god forbid, but all the baristas know me so always have a little chit chat with them and then I ignore everyone else, but I still have to deal with overhearing my fellow customers, so very many of whom are idiots.  I recently heard some guy patiently explain to his middle-aged female companion that tuna came in cans.  Bitch, what? How could you you live in this world as long as you apparently have without knowing how to get tuna? 

More to today's point is that I realize I have never shared what my beloved Pete's looks like.  So here's a quick little tour to let everyone know when I mention the old place what I am talking about.

Isn't this the coziest place you've ever laid eyes on?

This counter marooned in the middle of the room is what I have privately dubbed No Man's Land.  Its awkward height and exposed situation means nobody wants to sit there.  If I walk in and someone is parked at it, I know all the seats in the joint are already taken and I will have to fight for a perch.

Speaking of seats, this is my favorite.  I can sit here and watch all the action out on the sidewalk and at the same time turn my back on the madness going on inside.

Eye candy is a frequent bonus.

I usually avoid the table seating mostly because that just encourages my eavesdropping tendency.

Command central.

Surprise.  I jusr wanted to see if you were still paying attention.

Guys with whom I'd like to have a cup o' joe:

Jeebus on the cross and meat in the seat.

I love when a boy's butt chops overwhelm his panties.

Speaking of things which overwhelm me.

I've been bingeing a British police procedural series called Line of Duty and I am digging it.  Tragically, none of the actors look anywhere near like this.

Isn't that inviting?

I don't know why the show is so po-faced about cute guys, apparently there is plenty of fine British beef.