Anger Burger

I’m a pretty grumpy curmudgeon most of the time, but particularly when it comes to coffee.  Truly.  You don’t really know me, I know, but trust me when I say that everything from blenders (JUST GO TO ARBY’S AND GET IT OVER WITH) to music (WILL THAT JOHN MAYER CD FIT UP YOUR ASS?) make me crazy with rage; I actually drink more tea than coffee just because no one can make coffee right.  And so when I say that Olympia Coffee Roasting Company is my top place to get coffee in the world?  I hope you understand how serious I am.

I mean, to be fair, there are several reasons why I prefer Oly Coffee above all else.  My favorite baristas work there.  I don’t feel like I’m queuing up at other Costcoesque oversized mega-cafes.  Also, the coffee is always perfect.  Perfect.  This is true.

I think much of this can be credited to the above fellow, Oly Coffee’s roaster and the man with the only surname I’ve ever jealously coveted: Oliver Stormshak.  I say this with genuine respect and love, but before Oliver was there the coffee was mostly great and occasionally just good.  After?  Well, like I said: there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

Of course, none of this would exist without Kelly Ziniewicz, who I’m fairly certain bleeds coffee when cut.  It might be the secret to their coffee, now that I think about it.  I’m a little sorry that I only have this water-logged photo of her, but not too sorry.  She’s at the grand opening of Oly Coffee’s second location on Olympia’s westside, and it wouldn’t be Olympia if there wasn’t a sudden downpour.  Rest assured that the queue of people lined up for espresso merely tightened their ranks and ordered larger drinks.

And then there’s this guy.  The less said about him the better.

There are many other people who make the coffee happen (somehow I didn’t get a single photo of Mike Elvin in focus) that I haven’t mentioned, but they’re no less vital.  They just escaped my camera today.