By: Wei Qing Lim
Dear Philz Coffee,
It was a gloomy and cold January morning when I first encountered your corner store in Davis, CA. There was anticipation in the air— everyone lined up eagerly to get their cup of coffee, and whispered excitedly about their orders. I looked warily at the confusing menu and practiced my order in my head: a Mocha Tesora, medium-medium. I marched up to the counter and was greeted by the kindest barista, who made small talk and cheerily made my drink.
“Let me know if the drink needs any adjustments, we want it to be perfect!” With that, I smiled, said thank you, and took my first sip. This memory has been permanently etched into the deepest parts of my mind.
From the first moment that we met, I’ve been mesmerized by you. I tell everyone I meet about you, and always with affection. You are a safe haven in stress, heartbreak, and woes. You give me a sense of comfort that is hard to put into words and provide unspoken assurance that everything will be alright, even if it isn’t right now and won’t be for a while.
Some of my best moments have been with a cup of Philz coffee in hand. The once foreign, light brown cup has become so familiar that coming across one provides an instant surge of serotonin. I love taking the first sip and tasting the smoky aroma of a Jacob’s, or the cherry-citrus notes of a New Manhattan. I recall the days when I was a junior in college, sipping cups and cups of silken splendor, wide-eyed, and excited about the future. You have seen me through so many bad days, and so many good days.
You are not like the others who are in the usual corporate orbit. You desire community, and kindness, and act as a refuge for many. If this is what love feels like, then I understand. I understand why Andrew Paxton caught a plane from Alaska to New York to win Margaret Tate’s heart.
From a girl who has often wondered what home truly feels like, Philz, you are home.