C-Block and I go down to the Ace Hotel Stumptown occasionally (b/c there is also a bar?) to mix it up from the downtown and to get that sweet coffee without the Mayor of Belmont knowing–he knows when you've been sleeping, he knows when you're awake, and he really knows if you are on SE Belmont (between SE 14th and 34th, otherwise he does not know).
Apparently, my obvious hotness (or C-Block's), has caused a great American Writer (Esquire Yo!) to get his coffee in a bunch. I apologize Mr. David Katz. We can't help being ridiculously good-looking.
From the fine journalism (award-winning, what you got?) that is the WW:
The January issue of Esquire arrived in my mailbox on Friday with a special gift: a hilarious rant (sadly, not available online) by section editor David Katz that might be about the Stumptown Coffee in the Ace Hotel.
The evidence is circumstantial: Katz complains that he is forced to wait interminably in a cafe attached to his hotel in “Seattle or Portland or Brooklyn” (just when did that trio start to make sense?) while the barista dotes on a young thing (“her right pant leg is rolled up a few inches”) taking her sweet time to order a cuppa the “High Mountain Sumatran Mild.”
And that's got him steamed. He writes…Oh, you know that you want to know what he writes…so here ya go