Why we never advertise.
Written April 2026, after seven years, by the owner asking why we are still here.
The first year, we almost closed twice. Rent rose, guests fell, I was angry at everyone including myself. But there was one bench — the long one — that was never empty. Every morning, the same three people, the same seats. They did not know we were almost closing. They just came.
I understood then: we are not selling coffee. We are holding chairs for people who do not want to sit at home.— April 2021, on a napkin
Advertising has never been in the budget since. Not from principle — from sufficiency. The seats fill with people who have sat before. And they, in their own way, bring new ones.
Seven years later, I still ask: what did we build? Sometimes I think we are not a cafe. We are a waiting room. Not for a train, not for a plane — for the part of life that is not happening at home.