Dirty Dishes: Coffee Bitterness

​Who's servin' up all of the caffeinated haterade?

Seems like people complained for years that there was nary a spot around town where good
grounds could be found. Now we have two, no less, but they're a toss apart on the main drag in our upwardly mobile central corridor.

And are the homeskillets happy? Hells, no. The twits are tweeting and the yokels are yelping about who was here first (and therefore knows the secret hipster handshake) . . . which means what, exactly?


Can't we have two luxurious spots around to sip the warm, yummy nectar of the goods? And locals like us should be happy that good stuff is springin' forth. We're a big ass city, now, pumpkins!

Do you hear this kind of incessant whining in Seattle or San Francisco about who poured here first? No way. People are too busy tripping over themselves to support their neighborhood spots, where killer coffee is the order of the day and there's a judicious jolt of java worth jonesing for every goddamned street corner!

Bitter whiners with iPhones and nothing better to do, your table (in Scottsdale) is waiting. We'll be here with the grown-ups who appreciate choices and Phoenix-based businesses that are buzz-inducing, and buzz-worthy.

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