Two St. Petersburg coffeehouses show that friendships can thrive in any environment, as long as there’s a cup of joe.
By John Sutter
Arthur James “A.J.” Wilkerson Jr. sits at his table on a recent Sunday decked out in flowered swim trunks and a wrinkled, unbuttoned shirt, his sandy hair pulled back in a ponytail.
His family is with him, but there’s always room for extra company.
“Pull up a chair,” he says to a friend. “Pretend you know somebody.”
A.J.’s not on the 1967 sailboat he calls home.
He’s at Starbucks.
When Starbucks stepped onto the St. Petersburg coffee scene about six years ago, some area residents worried the megachain would scald this sleepy town with its corporate brew, maybe dilute the town’s identity or overwhelm local business.
But community can sprout up in the most corporate of places.
A buzzing network of coffee-loving friends gathers almost daily at the Starbucks at 900 Fourth St. N. They’re addicted to the coffees, the lattes, the “decaf, nonfat, no-whip mocha.”
And addicted to each other.
Joanne “JoJo” Johnson — that’s her favorite drink described above — says Starbucks coffee is “an opiate of some sort.” But she could brew that at home in her Starbucks brand coffeemaker.
“The people definitely sucked me in,” she says. “I look forward to coming here in the morning and seeing familiar faces.”
A.J., his wife, Rachel, son, Arthur, and dog, Brittney, have achieved coffeehouse celebrity status. When A.J. and Rachel married three weeks ago on the beach, they invited family and Starbucks friends, a phenomenon Rachel says was difficult to explain to her mother.
“We’re inviting the crew from Starbucks, a lot of people that go to Starbucks … and you guys,” she told her mother.
Brittney the dog, affectionately called “Brittney Starbucks” by the regulars, enjoys lapping up a good cup of coffee as much as A.J. and Rachel do. It must be Starbucks, it must be caffeinated, or she throws a fit, they say.
On one occasion, the family gave Brittney a cup from a local diner.
“She smelled it, looked at us, started barking and knocked it over. She was like, ‘Oh, no!'”
“I can’t say that I blame her. It’s not Starbucks,” Rachel says.
But like any addiction, this one costs. A.J. says he spends an average of four hours a day lounging at Starbucks. Hardly seems like a profitable venture, but A.J. insists he’s making money, even during his down time. He owns a tree trimming business and says that parking his truck, which has company logos slapped on the sides, brings in loads of business.
“I probably make $500 to $1,000 a month sitting here,” he says from a sidewalk chair parked in the shade.
Other business-minded customers use Starbucks as a pseudo-office. Regular Neil Livett, a real-estate agent, brings clients here to hold meetings. He’ll buy and sell property over a cup of coffee, as long as it’s French-pressed.
The atmosphere puts customers at ease, he says. And the staff never kicks you out, even if you linger for a long time without ordering.
Lively conversation and sense of community come with a hefty price ticket for most regulars. Johnson said she spends about $28 per week on her venti decaf, nonfat, no-whip mochas. That’s nearly $1,500 per year.
The sun rises on an open Starbucks seven days a week. Saturday and Sunday morning’s early birds are a mix of weekend workers, exercise fanatics, families and fishermen. Most customers have a particular drink they order every time they walk through the door. All have particular reasons to keep coming back.
Kevin Korb, 50, saunters through the door first on a recent Saturday at 6:07 a.m., dressed for a day of fishing: highlighter-yellow shorts and a button-up shirt with Backwoods chew in the pocket.
His list of reasons to come to Starbucks — and only Starbucks — rattle off his tongue without pause: “Because Panera doesn’t unlock the door in the morning. They run out of natural sugar. …They don’t give you a natural wooden paddle to stir your coffee. They give you a stupid little straw. Generally, I like everything about this place.”
Starbucks’ relaxing community atmosphere is engineered from corporate headquarters in Seattle. It’s corporate intention, not coincidence, that a Starbucks location easily transforms into a community’s gathering place. They sell more coffee if it does.
The Starbucks corporation owns each individual location, unlike franchise restaurants where managers own all or part of their stores. This allows the company to closely control everything from atmosphere to rules for workers to music selection.
Several customers mentioned music as a reason they choose Starbucks over other coffee joints.
Gillan scores a Van Morrison compact disc purchase this Sunday.
“Comin’ here I’ve picked up some music that’s, like, wow,” he says.
Some swing to the tunes: LaWanda Walker dances her way to the front of the line; Danny Cappiello, 48, covertly whistles along to Alanis Morissette’s acoustic version of “Ironic” while waiting for a server — sorry, barista — to bring his drink to the bar.
Starbucks culture is built on a labyrinth of lexicon:
Baristas are workers.
Tall is small.
Grande is medium in Starbucks, large in Italian.
Venti is Starbucks-speak for real big. It translates to “20” in Italian, an apparent reference to the drink’s number of ounces. It’s enough to give any Italian teacher a migraine. There’s always a cure for that here — more coffee.
Rachel Wilkerson says that if she ever is forced to make coffee at home, she makes it three times stronger than her mother makes. Gillen is a fan of the Breakfast Blend, Starbucks’ high-caffeine-jolt-you-into-the-workday brew.
Whether they come for community or caffeine, the regulars at Starbucks are tied by bonds of friendship that were forged in this glitzy coffee house. Its chairs are as comfy as those in Cleveland, its coffee the same as Cape Town.
But neighborhood customers have stamped this St. Petersburg Starbucks as their own.
“It’s a little subculture, you know. I don’t know if it’s being perpetuated from the corporation or if it’s more of an individual thing,” Livett, another regular, says. “As St. Pete grows that’s the one thing it does keep — that very relaxed, low-key feel.”
Even at highly caffeinated, high-society Starbucks.
