Only the Good Businesses Die Young

This is an obituary, I suppose.

Nestled unassumingly between a few shops in downtown Tarpon Springs was a small coffee shop with tinted windows and a crowd of hipsters that often congregated outside. It was called "Undergrounds Coffee House” and it closed this week.

The shop was a place of free expression, of community, and of music. It was one of the few venues that anyone under 18 (such as myself) could go without drawing judgmental glances. It was also the only venue in Florida, I think, that didn’t sell liquor as a primary revenue stream. Just coffee. Good coffee.

I wasn’t a regular to the shop, but I dropped in occasionally with friends on Friday nights to sample some local talent. At the back of the shop was a small stage, and different bands would take turns playing their stuff. It was all very laid-back, very low key. I loved the atmosphere.

Unfortunately, Undergrounds closed its doors last Saturday night after one final show. It’s sad, really that these kinds of places don’t stick around, but it must’ve been difficult to run a coffee shop that was mostly open at night. But the practicality didn’t matter – the place was just so cool.

I studied for two midterm exams in that room, amidst the sound that bounced off the walls and effectively ended any conversation. It was fun, as a college student, to conduct study groups while the bands played. We’d yell into each other’s ears to try to get our answers across. Effective? No. Memorable? You bet.

The other beauty of the shop was the way it brought the musical community together. Signed and popular bands rarely played at Undergrounds. That really wasn’t the idea. It was the unsigned, unknown, underground musicians that kept music flowing. Some of them couldn’t – or wouldn’t – have played anywhere else, but the audience was supportive, and it gave people confidence.

This is rambling, I know. I’m just sad that I can’t find a venue anymore where I can listen to music without having drunk people give me unsteady hugs.

Oh well. This is me, raising a proverbial coffee mug to honor a great place.