THE DEADLINE CAFÉ EPISODE #20

Every now and then Jimmy stopped by the café for a “cuppa joe on the go.”  On these occasions, there wasn’t much time for chat.  But once in a while the campus cop would drop what Hank called “a little conversation bomb”—like the time he said, “Funniest damned thing happened last night around 2 a.m.  This head pops up out of a manhole and it’s this skinny old professor with a flashlight and about ten students from Willard Res College. We cuff him and he then he says…”, and Jimmy would look at his wrist watch (there were so many gizmos on it, it took him a minute to find the actual clock with today’s time) and then say, “Whoops, gotta go. Tell you the rest later.” And he never did.

When he was really in a hurry, Jimmy would phone ahead for a “quickie.” Hank would take the cuppa, drop in an obscene amount of cream and sugar, cap it snugly, and slip the white cup into a paper protector sleeve (what Hank called a “coffee condom”).  Then he’d grab a donut and take everything outside to hand to Jimmy through his cruiser window.

On Monday, Hank met Jimmy in the adjacent alley with his order. “Appreciate it, my man,” Jimmy said.  “Say, is Oakey’s family ok—you know, that earthquake and the Tsunami and all?”

“Jimmy, she’s from South Korea.” How do I put this delicately? “Nowhere near all that. I’m sure they’re fine.”

“Hope so. By the way, what’s this I hear about Yada Yada Java challenging you and everyone else in Evanston to some kind of coffee showdown?” Jimmy glanced at his watch. “Sorry, gotta go. By the way,” he said as the window slid back up, “Leila and I have some leads….”

Two conversation bombs.

Back in the café, Oakey went online and found a big ad in the Roundtable:

YADA YADA JAVA COFFEE

ANNOUNCES

THE GREAT MIDWEST COFFEE AND BARISTA CHALLENGE!

In EVANSTON

On SATURDAY, APRIL 16, 2022

9am – 12 noon

At the Parking Lot near DOG BEACH.

THE EVANSTON YADA YADA JAVA COFFEE TEAM

Challenges all Evanston Cafés to a coffee taste-off and their baristi to a competitive demonstration of their best caffe latte artwork!

The GENERAL PUBLIC IS WELCOME! All registered Evanston voters are eligible to vote for their favorite cup of coffee and their favorite barista!  No registration fee. Show your voting card at the entrance and get a single purple ticket and a single black ticket. Then just taste the free samples of coffee and watch the baristas at work. Vote by putting a purple ticket in the box of your favorite café’s coffee and a black ticket in the box in front of your favorite barista. The ballot boxes close at noon and the winners will be announced an hour later.

Yada Yada Java is Evanston’s best café…and we’re willing to put our reputation on the line to prove it! We’re no “overnight” sensation and we don’t need gimmicks like a cat and a countdown to get customers.

"Well, ain’t that somethin’ else?" the Whittler said to Hank as he looked at the ad over Oakey’s shoulder. “Whaddaya gonna do about it, Hank?”

Hank knew well what Sherman would do if you backed that cat into a corner, and he’d seen what Sherm had done to that Harvard guy’s suit.  So he knew what he had to do now.

“This is a coffee war,” he said slowly, looking the Whittler in the eyes. “A coffee war this is. Game on.”

Hank felt the old juices flowing again, was how he described it to Lissa, who was sorting out the Lost and Found box and had a whole line up, an army of single mittens and gloves of various sizes and colors, spread out on the floor where she was sitting cross-legged.

“Well, that’s great, but look what else just came in the mail,” she said.

She held up a postcard with a picture of a weird coffee mug sculpture, it looked like: “35 DAYS and COUNTING DOWN!”

Now Hank was awake, alive, and ready to rumble. He was a sloshing bucket of ideas, a quivering quiver of arrows, a jabbing middle-aged boxer with still some fight left in him, a coffee man who’d lost his way momentarily and was back on his A-game. “I can’t wait,” he said.

“Neither can I,” said Lissa. 

Oakey smiled, overhearing this, and the Whittler started spreading the news like only the Whittler could. By day’s end, every café and barista in Evanston was on board and in line and ready for war.