Kafé Kerouac

When I was a teenager, I spent many pseudo angst-ridden evenings slumped in a corner table at a coffee shop on the OSU campus. It was called Insomnia, and its four walls housed a ridicule-free-zone that made its dwellers feel cool, loved, and special. I miss it dearly. Yesterday afternoon in an effort to find a similar coffee haven, we visited Kafé Kerouac. It’s located just north of campus, and like Insomnia, offers a comfy hideaway inducive to studying, reading, thinking, working, and/or world saving. In addition to the usual coffeehouse fare, the Kafé sells beer, wine, whiskey, new and used vinyl, and new and used books. It’s a cross between hanging out in your favorite uncle’s living room and the basement from The Virgin Suicides.