Javatown is the central hub of our story, a coffee shop hangout that’s a definite throwback to the era of grunge rock and poetry slams.
While the coffeehouses of the 90’s were geared toward the college crowd, likely pretentious hipsters in horn rimmed glasses, the coffee spots of today are patronized by a slightly younger crowd. Starbucks has infiltrated our way of life, thus introducing the wonder of a double mocha non-fat blended latte to junior high and high school kids. As with any generation, this one is a step ahead of us.
Coffee culture represents the urgency of youth. It’s the MTV of beverages, promoting quick, shaky transitions and a desire to consume. And, much like today’s generation, coffee has evolved over time. Where the only differentiation used to be regular or decaf, there are now iced, blended, low-fat, no-fat, sugar-free, syrup added, double shot, soy based, and extra whip versions, just to rattle off a few. Even then, these aren’t necessarily new, they’re just renamed, reinvented, re-labeled versions of something that’s been around for millennia.
Such are the inhabitants of Javatown. They’re young adults, much like those who came before them. Still, in every way that they’re similar, they’re also worlds apart.
Javatown isn’t about high school or college. It’s about decisions, good and bad. It’s about responsibility and independence and how they’re hoisted on you, whether you want them or not. It’s also about the ties that bind. Not cliques and classes, but those threads that link one person to another, the few degrees that connect everyone to each other.
It’s about transition.
At the center of this story are four young people: Jeff, the everyman; Shannon, his class project partner; Amy, Shannon’s promiscuous and foul mouthed best friend; and Nancy, the religious barista who’s about to make a starling discovering regarding her sexual orientation. They’re comfortable in their lives, in the day-to-day rhythm they’ve drummed up for themselves. They’re also at the summit of youth, facing off toward adulthood. This is a time of life that doesn’t require an enormous catalyst to send everything spiraling toward a big bad world of the brand new and unexpected. It takes a look, a touch, a conversation, a moment, a brief glimpse of realization, to shift everything into a different direction.
This is growing up. This is change. This is choices.
This is Javatown.
