Coffee shops are like assholes: everyone’s got one, and they’re full of assholes. Wait… that’s not right. But you know what is? This breakdown of the clothing, accessories, and habits of that one guy who’s always driving baristas & other customers nuts at your local cafe.
This hoser dresses himself carefully just to hog an outlet all damn day at local java joints across the country. Get familiar with the clothing & accessories that give him away, or be damned to endure him for eternity/the remainder of your coffee.
Espresso drinks you’ve never heard of: Sure, a cortado is basically just a half-sized macchiato. But if he ordered it like that, everyone wouldn't know that he lived in Spain after undergrad while he was “finding himself”. So, yeah.
Thick-framed glasses: Are those even prescription? Wait... do they even have lenses?!
Desert boots: Despite never lacing them, these are the nicest shoes he owns. Everything is either beat-up sneakers or those rubber sandals that foreign dudes wear with capris. (He found those in Spain, too.)
Hand-rolled cigarettes: You're beginning to suspect his entire persona is imported from Europe.
Earbuds: When he’s not conference-call whisper-screaming into that inline mic, these babies are blasting "Ho Hey!" by The Lumineers so loudly that you momentarily consider clapping along. Then you remember you've heard this song 74,758,362 times, and would rather get the clap than listen to it again. Ho... HEY!
Beanie: Regardless of season -- August? Sure! -- he's wearing one. Either it’s a watch cap rolled up 3in above his ears like a condom, or it’s a slouchy number that’s barely clinging to the back of his head. You idly wonder if he stores food in the weird pouch that forms at the base of his neck.
Chambray shirt: Dress shirts are corporate, and he’s no suit -- he's thinking of "launching his own thing" soon, which basically means he read a Fast Company article about micro-entrepreneurship, and is recently unemployed. Plus, if he ever actually works, it’s always here. Somehow, you feel overdressed?
Purposely careless facial hair: Sorry, he "didn’t have time for the whole routine" this morning. Even though he got here at 2pm, smelling like "a rustic whiskey still with subtle notes of tarragon". And his hair is "on the way to open casting for Tousled2Perfection", a made-up movie that sounded like a wayyyy better burn in your head.
Knuckle tattoos: He looks down on girls who get mustaches inked on their fingers, but only because they're not attracted to "SINK" & "SWIM" inked on his. There's more to him than meets the eye, dammit!
“Retro” timepiece: The battery in his Timex for J.Crew field watch has been dead since "hipsters" were a thing. Then again, he never seems to have anything to be late to, because he's always here.
So many #menswear bracelets: Sailor's knots, tribal beads, fishhook charms -- how does one wrist hold all this? They clack when he types, and you just caught yourself fantasizing about amputating his hands, Saw IV-style. Wow, that was sorta troubling. Do you think you're really capable of that sort of vio-- HOLY HELL, THAT IS IRRITATING.
Multiple notebooks: One is full of bad poetry about drugs he's never done; the other, bad sketches of Norman Mailer's face. Several have never been opened, and are completely for show.
A blank tee with the LOOSEST neck: Often worn alone beneath his coat, this thing looks cheap, but is probably pricier than anything you own. A blindingly pale, disturbingly scrawny chest lurks beneath that plunging neckline.
He's just gonna grab lunch "real quick" with his improbably hot girlfriend. He should be back in, like, 20mins. Do you mind?
(That's what he told you 2hrs ago. The moral quandary of whether to ditch has anchored you to this table ever since. The baristas made you buy another coffee because they think his stuff is yours, and you're a no-good squatter. The asshole is now you.)
Dave Infante is an extremely punchable senior writer for Thrillist. Follow him to espresso and password-free Linksys at@dinfontay.