“No está permitido el uso de portátiles o tablets en las mesas.”
Translated to english, this sentence reads: “The use of laptops or tablets on the tables is not allowed” with a clipart of a x’ed out computer pasted below.
Printed out several times, these instructions were scattered around Misión Café inside small plastic holders. These signs alert customers who attempt to do work at their “work-off-limits” tables of their strict policy, supposedly only implemented on weekends and holidays but tend to creep into the work week. I have found that this policy is far from unique to just Misión Café. Rather, almost every coffee shop around Madrid has some sort of computer policy in place, some even changing their WiFi password every hour to prevent people from overstaying their welcome.
For someone reliant on a coffee shop to curate the perfect study ambiance to work down my to-do list, this clearly created a problem. And a big one.
Back in Charlottesville, Virginia, where I am a current student at UVA, there are several options of study spots – some hidden, some popular coffee shops where you’re guaranteed to run into at least two-to-three people you know, and others large libraries – so large you could get lost. The accessibility to these spots has been crucial to my academic success. Coming to Spain? A definite adjustment.
The unfortunate structure of my roommates and I’s three bedroom apartment leaves us with minimal natural lighting, something I find necessary to my productivity. There has to be some research on that, because when I see our two little sunroofs and their attached blackout shades, next to our couch, and our remote, and our T.V.… which has Netflix… you see my point. Countless times I’ve tried to get work done in my apartment, and countless times have failed unless it’s the night before a strict deadline, of course.
This could be attributed to my short attention span when studying around my roommates or lack of self control, but nevertheless, the quest for a public space – a third space aside from home and school – is something that I am constantly seeking out. To get work done, I need to be in a library or a café or somewhere that has a focused environment. A lot of the time, my productivity stems from seeing other people be productive. Almost like these strangers are holding me accountable from grabbing my phone for my fifth “study break” to doom scroll through TikTok and avoid any responsibilities I might have.
Upon reflection, I’ve realized that my need for a productive work environment comes from none other than my father. Growing up going on vacations, scouting out the best coffee shop was at the very top of his list of priorities right next to exploring. These vacation coffee-shop runs would usually consist of my dad sparking up a conversation with a barista, or maybe someone he attempted to pick out as a local, to ask for recommendations around the city. By the time we would wake up, he’d have everyone’s drink of choice in hand along with his spiel of his – meaning our – packed itinerary for the day which most times he gathered from coffee shop locals. Starting his day at 5:37 a.m. every morning, my dad’s routine is like clockwork. And vacation is no exception, because the four-shot mocha he consumes every morning by 6:30 a.m. while getting his work done – sometimes “work” meant completing the Wordle and reading the Journal – remains constant.
Similarly, I find myself searching for the best coffee shops, even when I’m vacationing away from Madrid. But here’s the difference: I don’t even like coffee. I have never been a fan of coffee, which makes me think I might even have been adopted by my four-coffees-a-day parents. Nevertheless, this made me wonder: What is it about coffee shops that I crave so much if it’s not the coffee?
One specific Tuesday morning I had a good amount of work to get done. I had planned my whole day the night before: 8a.m. wake-up, be at the cafe by 9a.m. to get enough done by my noon class. Right on schedule, I walked into Misión Café at 9a.m., ordered my black tea with a splash of almond milk, and opened my computer to sort through my to-do list while waiting on my tea.
Within five minutes of analyzing my to-do list, a cafe employee approached me with a disappointed face. Shaking her head, she pointed to a small plastic stand, with that annoying x’ed out computer clip-art that immediately signals my brain that I have encountered yet another failed attempt at finding the perfect study spot.
Apologetically, yet annoyed, I shut my computer and calmly placed it back in my bag, biting my tongue of whether or not the time had come to finally ask why on earth they have this stupid rule! I continued to sip my tea, realizing that this rule was the reason I wouldn’t get my work done – it’s not like I’m going to go buy another tea so I can try another café and have yet another failed attempt at studying. I would be caffeined-up within the first hour!
Through the long four years of my high school career – or the three of the ones which I could drive – Roasters was the place to be. At least, for me. With its friendly workers whom I knew on
a first-name-basis to the sounds of coffee machines steaming, grinding, and roasting in the background, I always felt a sense of comfort with a warm drink by my side.
Many people see coffee shops as a social place; somewhere you can rekindle old friendships, go on first dates, meet up with study groups, church groups, the list goes on. For me this isn’t what it’s about. Frankly, I like coffee shops because of the opposite. I like the experience of sitting down by myself, putting my headphones in and focusing on whatever I need to focus on amidst the chaos. It brought the peaceful feeling of being alone in a crowded room, free from human interaction because everyone knows not to start small talk with someone working in a cafe – unless either:
- a) they don’t know coffee shop etiquette or
- b) they happen to be my dad
Almost every morning before school, I would get up in time to go by Roasters, just a 7-minute drive from my house. That was the only coffee shop in my vocabulary growing up, and it was a shameful act for those of our family who went to Starbucks. There is something about it that feels like home, and it now has hints of nostalgia woven in the smell of roasted coffee beans to the taste of their out-of-this-world blueberry muffin that I swear I’ve been addicted to since I was eight years old. Getting there before school became a ritual. It allowed me to be alone with my thoughts – or to “wake-up” as my mom would say, meaning to get over the initial grumpy stages of an early morning school day.
With my laptop open in Misión Café while drinking my Earl Grey tea, I’ve ironically shown up at exactly the right time to secure a spot at one of their few laptop-permitted tables. Sitting here, I can’t help but reflect on the significance of coffee shops in my life. The question still remains: Why do I need this third space? I’ve come to find that what’s so nice about working in cafes is the comfort you feel being surrounded by strangers – two things that typically don’t go together. In addition to a productive ambiance, it is a way for me to connect with the environment around me by just being present.
The struggle remains to find the perfect work space – especially on the weekends – that isn’t Starbucks. Of course being able to get work done on my computer is necessary (and preferred), but I’ve come to enjoy the adventure of finding cool spots regardless of their laptop policy.
My dad always told me: “The best way to explore a new city is to find a good coffee shop and just go from there!”