Don’t get me wrong: I love the nightlife, I got to boogie. All that stuff. But there are times when even the most dedicated party girl needs a change of pace. Sometimes I like to trade in those trusty beer pitchers and shot glasses for something cozier—like a latte. Luckily, finding late-night java utopias in espresso-doused Seattle isn’t difficult. Every local coffeehouse caters to a distinctive crowd with specific expectations, meaning everyone must find their niche. In the University District, on Capitol Hill, downtown, and even on the Eastside, you, too, may discover the joys and sorrows of nighttime caffeine overload, indulge in some much-needed college nostalgia (think “late-night cram session”), or get roped into conversation with the local stoner, who always seems to have something new to say about the human condition.
For Seattleites, the most far-flung option might be Kirkland’s Triple J Cafe. Upon arrival at 9:30 p.m., I realize the Triple J is ideal for those unwilling to brave Seattle’s grittier late-night caffeine scene. Those who cringe at the thought of D&D groups gathering in the dark crevices of coffee shops; those who shudder at the sight of cigarette smoke encircling the young bodies outside. Perhaps these people choose the Triple J because it boasts a bright, open interior with high ceilings and light wooden furniture. The service is amicable and the coffee tasty, but mostly—well, it bores me. Where are the lively characters to gawk at? Where are the cute boys? For that matter, where’s anyone under 50? Still, this is a near-perfect spot for a mellow night of chatting with friends and eating ultrasalty fries. During the day, the Triple J offers other dishes, but only fries and soup are available from 7 p.m. until closing time (11 p.m.).
Next stop: University District Zoka. For me, this place is a refresher course in the ancient ritual of undergraduate study groups—specifically, the way that hooded sweatshirts, fancy laptops, and tall soy mochas create a dynamic atmosphere of slacking off, bullshitting, and sexual tension. The long room is crammed with students at 10:35 p.m., from the loner studying in a plush chair to the 20 noisy kids sitting at the abnormally long table in the middle of the room. Unable to find seats, my friend and I stand in the corner gawking at a giant banner that reads: “Home of the 2005 USBC Barista Champion.” We also inspect Zoka’s dark wooden walls, which are decorated with various photographs and local show posters. After hovering a little longer, we decide that our lack of homework makes us stick out like sore thumbs, and we dart out the door.
Twenty minutes later, we reach the relaxed atmosphere of Caffe Ladro in Queen Anne. The walls are dressed in earth tones and decorated with attractive black-and-white photographs; the few interior tables are inlaid with shiny pieces of colored glass. Cozy couples at tables talk softly to each other, giving the cafe an intimacy that the earlier two lacked. An older college student has homework spread out on a window table. With Bob Dylan songs playing softly in the background, Ladro is the perfect place for a private conversation, a good book, or a date with a frozen caramel latte.
Eventually, we head to Capitol Hill and Online Coffee Company with hopes of finding some entertainment. It’s 11:25 p.m., and the coffee shop is hopping. Most of the customers are typing on computers, with the exception of a strange man in the corner making bizarre faces at his monitor. While I order a peppermint tea, the barista gestures toward the many computers in the cozy room and offers me a half-hour of free Internet time. I refuse and settle into the couch, contentedly gaze around me, and realize I’m the only person not on a computer. This late at night, OCC is more an Internet cafe than a coffee shop, and I feel a little out of place.
I don’t have to walk too far before reaching Bauhaus, my last destination of the night and one of the few coffee shops in Seattle still open at 12:28 a.m. Because of its proximity to my apartment, I’m already familiar with the colorful late-night crowd. Walking into the shop—a big, dark, two-level space with crowded bookshelves reaching up to the ceiling, wobbly furniture, and many nooks and crannies—I notice the interesting personalities lounging around. The barista gives me a friendly smile, and the air is filled with voices arguing and laughing. Here the rock music is louder than at the other cafes. A young girl sketches in her notebook next to me, a zoned-out couple with matching laptops pounds away, and three friends sitting across the room gesticulate wildly as they talk.
Intimate, mellow, nostalgic, noisy, Web-friendly—just as your friends keep telling you there’s someone for everyone, Seattle seems to have a coffee shop to suit any taste. Yet in my mind, the real jewels are the ones where you can get a cup of drip at midnight, sit by the window, and watch the rest of the world traipse by.
Triple J Espresso, 101 Central Way, Kirkland, 425-822-7319. University District Zoka, 2901 N.E. Blakeley St., 206-527-0990. Caffe Ladro 2205 Queen Anne Ave. N., 206-282-5313. Online Coffee Company, 1720 E. Olive Way. Bauhaus, 301 E. Pine St., 206-625-1600.
