34th and M Street, NW
“Dear PoPville,
I’m so torn on this one. Will I really miss it? Sort of. But every time I have walked by this space, either as the now-gone Starbucks, or as Capriotti’s sandwich shop before it, or that godawful Philly Pizza where students, tourists, high school drinkers, and young military types splashed ranch dressing on 2 a.m. slices before barfing them on the street, I have longed for something more in the spirit of
the Cellar Door. That ghost, along with the still-alive Blues Alley and various flickers of a quasi-hygge Georgetown such as Clyde’s and others, remind me that this place once mattered way more than it does right now. It wasn’t so much upmarket as it was hip and niche–hello Georgetown Coffee, Tea & Spice, if you can hear us rattle the table–but those days are decades gone.
This particular Starbucks at 34th and M struck a weird compromise. Its shelf-stable food choices were adequate but unenticing, and the decor was almost-but-not-quite comfortable, like a decent group house basement where you always have to prop a furniture leg to stabilize it. But those walls. Via the exposed brick you could almost see the shadows and hear the echoes of Odetta, Danny Gatton, the Seldom Scene, Nina Simone, Eva Cassidy, Miles Davis, Bill Danoff, Emmylou Harris… those walls triggered memories in a way that previous late-night-food incarnations never managed.
What this Starbucks also had going for it was a couple of baristas who were so friendly, learned our names, and made us feel happy to drop in. It also had a truly bizarre barista a while back who did things like hassle unhoused folks with “jokes,” so I don’t want to overstate this point, but at least two of the baristas were super nice and almost always there. I’ll miss them quite a bit.“