The Last Drop. The First Entry.

With so many coffee shops to start with, and would probably be a better place to start, I begin my writing here, at the Last Drop.

I currently reside in Philadelphia. The home of Brotherly Love (the love is optional these days), Liberty Bell (which you can’t touch anymore), Hoagies (grinders, subs, depending on your part of the country), Pat’s, Geno’s (avoid both. For my money, you want Jim’s on South), and a seemingly exploding coffee scene (true).

And while it might be best for me to start at a place such a La Colombe, a joint where the kids are seen and want to be seen, I am choosing to start with The Last Drop. I’m a sucker, what can I say?

For starters, there will be no Starbucks reviews here. I would suggest using Yelp for those searches. If you’re up for something a little better, you’ve come to the right place. Burnt coffee? No. Tasty coffee? Yes. And for the record, i have lots of places in mind. Over the years, many of them have come to mean something personal to me, in my journey through a city that can be difficult to navigate. I want to invest in that personal touch. I’ve probably lived here long enough to have a few things to say, but I am no expert. Just a girl, taking the city by storm, one cafe at a time.

Not to worry. I will get to La Colombe and all it’s goodness. I’ll also discuss about the little cafes that are perhaps less obvious. To talk about the little guys and give them some money. Keep the poverty levels down, right? We can all help each other.

I first went to the Last Drop when I moved to Philadelphia about five years ago. I was in need of a late night coffee and a quiet place to work. Much to my dismay, i was still underemployed, still working on photos to kill some time and try to become a fashion photographer (more on that later). But mostly, I was bored. So I went to the Last Drop.

My first time was not impressive. The barista was rude. The coffee was weak. The place was weird. The music, awful.

I didn’t go back for a while. A long while.

Truth be told, I didn’t start going back again until I moved away from Center City. One day I just biked by and found myself there. Just like that, i was back. And just like that, I found myself there again and again.

I think it’s the atmosphere that captures my attention. Think cafe meets old historic house meets garage band. Basically, it’s really cool, if you’re into that sort of thing. Underground might be a nice word to use. There are always adverts for local bands playing at the MilkBoy or The Boot and Saddle on Broad.

I can think of many people who actually wouldn’t like this place. This isn’t a scene. Not a place to be noticed. This is nice neighborhood cafe. Perhaps that’s why I started going again. I want to be alone to be left alone. To think. To ponder.

Here I got into reading ‘The Flowers of Evil’ (Baudelaire), ‘The Last of the Mohicans’  (Cooper), and ‘Arrowsmith’ (Lewis). I downloaded some Hitchens on my Nook as well.

It’s a nice place to get serious, without actually getting too serious. There are some comfort levels which make it quaint. Always a pleasant breeze coming through the door (during the warmer months) and it’s cozy during the cooler months.

As for that first night, it’s a memory. Perhaps the barista was having a bad day. Maybe they were in a permentantly bad mood. Who knows? It doesn’t matter anymore.

The Last Drop Cafe is located on 13th and Pine in Center City. http://www.thelastdropcoffeehouse.com/