At some point I realised that I wasn’t going to make any friends just by sitting at home and wishing that I had some. I don’t get out all that much any more, not since Martha passed on, but it finally got too much the other day. I’m still hale and hearty, I still go for hikes every weekend, so I can’t just let myself fade away socially! Good thing Johnny’s Café opened recently, otherwise I probably would’ve had to drive a good twenty minutes or so just to find the nearest decent coffee joint. It would’ve been that, or trying to chat up that lady in the wool shop every day. She might be my type, I’m really not sure.
So I lumbered in, had a good chat to Johnny- seen him around a bit, but never chatted to him until now- and tried to see if any old fellows my age were interested in chatting about fishing rod holders and hook size variations. It’s pushing my luck a bit, I know…Martha always just tolerated my fishing habit when she was alive, never saying anything (because she was an absolute gem) but making it clear that she’d rather have a couple of friends over while I’m out on my boat. At least back then I could come home to her, even if I never tried to talk to her about snapper racks and such. Now I’d just really like some conversation. And if it can be on the subject of fishing, so be it!
I don’t just want to go and brazenly ask Johnny if any of the people who come in here like fishing. Browsing the online guestbook, it looks as if I’m not going to find what I’m looking for, at least not so far. Though not everyone has signed, I suppose. Maybe I just need to find a new hobby. Stop following the latest trends in marine stainless steel fabrication in Melbourne and start pursuing something else, though. Bridge, or bingo, or…skydiving. Don’t think I will, though. I’ll keep coming along to the café anyway, because you never know. Also, great coffee!
-Fergus
You don’t realise how harmful stereotypes can be until you find yourself on the wrong end of one. Oh, this one’s mostly true, as many stereotypes are…but it can make working in the wrong industry very painful. Maybe it’s my fault for picking the wrong career, and I guess being here really codifies it. Everyone at the docks goes to the local greasy café for lunch, where they have fried egg sandwiches and potato cakes while swilling down terrible coffee. And here I am, here at Johnny’s…and I drove twenty minutes to get here, because my tastes are just higher.
I know plants like I know my own children, except better. As in, I know plants much better. I’d be pretty okay with forgetting my third daughter’s name if it meant that I could just keep that one particular genus in my head…oh, I keep forgetting and it’s infuriating!
Everyone’s asked me enough, so I guess I’d better codify it here (even though I just made a sign): dogs are welcome in the café. This isn’t some franchise where we have solid rules. I say dogs are okay, so long as they’re definitely calm and under control. I love dogs, and while it’ll mean some more stringent hand-washing regulations, I’d like to welcome them in in a way that cafes usually don’t.
Johnny’s cafe has really become part of my routine now. I pop in every morning for a coffee and occasionally a croissant. I’ve even started to leave home a little earlier so I have time to actually sit in there and enjoy it. So you can imagine my shock when I rocked up yesterday morning to find it closed! I didn’t know what to do, no sign of johnny and all the doors were locked. I got my coffee elsewhere and found a number for Johnny. I gave him a call and turns out he was having a problem with the plumbing and he thought he had a
I don’t often feel the need to dress up
I
We’re not particularly near the ocean, so it’s not often we get sailors in here. I imagine they have all their dock cafes and such, where they have low-priced food for lunch. Hmp
I get a lot of compliments on the building. And to that, all I can say is…thanks! I did it myself!