Hot cup of guilt: I love my local café, but the new one two doors down is better

It’s always strange to bump into someone from a specific part of your life out of context as if you’ve accidentally pierced a hole in the matrix. When I was younger, it would break my mind if I ran into a school teacher at the grocery store. What are you doing here, Mrs Miller? You only exist at school. Put the basket down and return to the classroom at once!

It doesn’t really change that much as you get older. Seeing work colleagues on the weekend, living their weekend lives feels wrong. The same goes for anyone you know from the gym. Have you ever seen a gym-only acquaintance not sweating and wearing civilian clothes? Bizarre.

In the cutthroat suburban cafe scene, the opening of a new option presents a tricky choice for loyal locals. Credit: Michael Howard

Walking the frozen food aisle at Coles last week, I was confused when a big, burly man strolled right up to me and asked, “Where have you been lately?” Immediately, I knew that I knew him but could not pinpoint where I knew him from.

It wasn’t until he muttered something about coming by for coffee that it clicked into place. He owned the local café, and I had, in fact, been avoiding him.

Until a couple of months ago, it had been my favourite café in the area, possibly the world. They did everything a café is supposed to do to foster fondness, including memorising my order and using my name enough times that I felt like a........

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