Wednesday, January 16, 2019 // The Statement
7B
Wednesday, October 16, 2019 // The Statement
7C

E

spresso
Royale
(specifically
the one on State Street) prob-
ably isn’t anyone’s favorite Ann
Arbor coffee shop. It’s the standard, the
status quo, the closest to Central Cam-
pus and a reliable place to grab some
quick caffeine in the morning or work on
assignments in awkward half-hour class
breaks. It doesn’t have Literati Coffee’s
expansive selection of designer station-
ary, or the tasteful mismatched furni-
ture and sparse plants of Lab Cafe, or
the coffee quality and quirky branding
of Roo’s Roast.
Espresso belongs in a different cat-
egory than its other trendier Ann Arbor
coffee shop siblings. It’s a little rough
around the edges — most of the tables are
a bit wobbly, the walls could use a fresh
coat of paint and the carpet has some
suspicious stains. Espresso Royale is, at
its core, essentially your standard col-
lege coffee shop — a little grimy, heavily
trafficked, a place to meet for interviews
or quick “catch-ups” with friends you
lived down the hall from freshman year.
It’s also probably the Ann Arbor
locale I’ve spent the most time in during
these past three years at the University
of Michigan (living quarters excluded,
obviously). Espresso Royale is reliable,
it’s comforting. The coffee shop is not
pretending to be anything it isn’t —
that’s what I like about it. As I write this
column at a table in the back, a woman
sitting in one of the armchairs clustered
in the center of the main room is filing
her toenails. Gross, yes, but also some-
how exactly what I would expect from
this coffee shop. It’s not a performative
place — I don’t feel pressured to pres-
ent a façade of the productive student
who also looks incredibly put together at
every instant. This is a space where any-
thing goes, unfortunately toenail filing
included.
One of the many quirks of Espresso
Royale is that you never know if the
internet will be working. More often
than not, it will trickle along at a snail’s
pace. Espresso Royale is not the place to
watch lecture recordings—I learned this
the semester I had Stats 250 at 8:30 a.m.
and rarely made the trek from South
Quad to class in the MLB. It’s also really
not the place to go if you need to buckle
down on work. I’ve met many friends
here over the years to work on various
projects, and though the Wi-Fi speed is
always initially a frustration, it also has
been the initiator of many incredible

conversations when the laptops inevita-
bly close after struggling to load Canvas
for the better part of an hour.
The internet speed might be a deal-
breaker for some, but I’d argue that
to the contrary, it’s nice to have some
(minor) inconveniences imposed on you
occasionally. I thoroughly enjoy going
through the cycle of complaining about
the internet connection, but also refus-
ing to relocate to a study spot with bet-
ter Wi-Fi. Perhaps it’s my subconscious
seeking some disconnect from the digi-
tal sphere and associated stresses, but
whatever it is, Espresso Royale somehow
knows exactly how to address that need
without requiring me to take some dras-
tic and deliberate action like disconnect-
ing from my home Wi-Fi network—for
which I am very thankful.
And while your internet page might
never load, there’s also no need to worry
about getting distracted from whatever
off-line task you’ve found to keep your-
self occupied by the background music—

another wonderful quirk of Espresso
Royale is that the store playlist is thor-
oughly unexciting. It’s all songs that are
super familiar and non-confrontational.
Right now, “I’m Yours” by Jason Mraz
is playing. I’ve heard a lot of the Eagles
here, and a lot of Fleetwood Mac. Noth-
ing that I would really choose to actively
listen to, but there’s something so com-
forting about a blanket of music that is
passively recognizable. It’s the music
that might be playing in my grandpar-
ents’ house, music that I’ve heard from
a young age and is buried deep within
me. Nothing new or edgy, nothing that’s
going to demand my attention or pique
my interest. It’s the musical equivalent
of a cup of hot tea—nothing to write
home about, but a nice warm presence
regardless.
I’ve been interviewed for intern-
ships in this space and opened rejection
emails from internships here. I’ve had
first dates here, and I’ve fought with
friends here. I’ve laughed and also cried

here, after bad exams and as a result of
heart-wrenching conversations about
identity and social justice and things
that really matter. Espresso Royale has
marked just about every milestone of my
college career—from freshman year to
senior year, this coffee shop has seen it
all.
This coffee shop feels like college. It
feels a little messy, a hodge-podge of dif-
ferent personalities and energies con-
tinuously entering and exiting. It feels
like a place of personal exploration, of
the occasional existential crisis, of bud-
ding friendships. It feels like hangovers
and it feels like cramming for an exam
the hour before.
So, Espresso Royale, thank you for
your overwhelming mediocrity and nor-
malness — it’s what I love the most about
you. And though I’ve certainly been
disloyal to you for other, trendier Ann
Arbor coffee shops, I have a feeling I’ll
keep coming back here — bad Wi-Fi and
all.

Love letters to Ann Arbor:
Espresso Royale

BY MEGHANN NORDEN-BRIGHT, STATEMENT COLUMNIST

FILE PHOTO