Remaining behind the faint whispers of steaming milk, the footsteps of a horrific past can be heard through the shadow of a swift shuffling figure. Hidden beneath the bustle of daily patrons sipping their delicious fall drinks lies the tale of the mysterious figure that still lurks these hollow coffee grounds (a play on words indeed). He is known by many as “The Angel of Spro,” to some as “The Coffee Ghost,” but to a few as friend. This is the story of the Phantom of BLOC.
Held in the catacombs of 3101 Price Avenue, bandied in controversy, the origins of the Phantom are fabled throughout the shops history. Could it be that the mystery begins with a child, absconding from a mother who scorned his hideous deformity from birth, only to find himself under the tutelage of used coffee grounds dripping through the cracks in the floor? To the contrary, could it be a green barista humbly working to progress in his craft, only to be burned by the steam he wishes so desperately to perfect; now bound to his craft not by love, but by fear of his unsightly face being revealed in the public light? Or was it, while canvasing the freedom of the wilderness, his foot was not sure; a promising barista found himself plummeting --not only from the the cliff he so distractedly sought to conquer, but -- into a coffee madness spiraling towards eternity, forever captive into the cellars of the shop where his disfigurement has forced him to reside? None the less, in isolation he remains teaching only those his hand selects, to carry on his legacy of espresso even yet.
Even though his origins are obscure, his presence is clear. Though minuscule, his manifestation is made known through his obsessive rituals he performs when the lights of the shop are dimmed and the daily commotion is subdued. Some mornings items find themselves gravitating towards particular locations, as if someone has rearranged the shop each evening. The chrome is exquisitely polished, and the counters immaculately cleaned. On nights the Phantom appears, a lone cappuccino cup can be found on table 5 with a final heart of foam resting in the bottom. Though the baristas brew by day, this phantom of the night is the true proprietor of coffee.
The veracity of this ghastly specter’s intentions remains unclear; is he one of malignancy or benevolence? While his objectives are muddled, his skills are not, known throughout the city as a true craftsman of coffee. Some may say that he can still be seen in the shop, most likely between 7am-10am on Thursday mornings.
Viscounts de Price Hil