AZOTUSLAND chapter nine
There had been any number of new or fairly new people in the cafe recently. On any given day as few as 350, or as many as 600 plus, would come through the complex, mostly higher numbers because of the variety of events and venues. Volume was necessary to make Azotus viable. If 500 people a day came in and dropped and average of $6.00 or more, that was $3,000-plus a day and usually about $25,000 a week. In addition there were some gallery sales each week and artists paid a healthy fee to use the studio and darkroom. All totaled the Azotus Cafe and complex was running on about $1.2 million a year.
There was little profit simply because when there was Jim spent it on improvements to the grounds, the building or other side projects of his own devising. When it was time to tally at the end of the year they threw a holiday potluck which enabled Jim to hand out fatter checks from profit-sharing. It was during that same day they would sit around with the cafe closed, walk the grounds together and dream for the next year. Jim's philosophy was while there had to be a main boss, the decisions should be made in community. He had surrounded himself mostly with very smart and hard-working people who loved coming to work most days. He intended to keep them happy and appreciated.
And they were happy. Mostly. On days off it was not uncommon to see Renata and Rand walking the grounds, or Ward sitting up on the deck reading a Sedaris book, or Ian down in the art studio painting with oils.
Jim saw Azotus architecturally in his mind. At the core it was a "Third space" that people came to experience as a communal home away from home. It served the same community function as cafes in France, or pubs in Ireland. Regulars developed special privileges like occasional free food, free refills, personal emails from staff about events and always being acknowledged by name.
And the community was extending and deepening thanks to their growing Internet presense. Those who visited the cafe were encouraged to create an online profile at Azotuscafe.com. Those who did not have computers or were intimidated by them, could stop in the IC and Andy would walk them through it, scan a picture and help them feel at ease. He was a very kind soul and infinitely patient.
Off the front page you could navigate to a number of areas of interest. Modeled after the building itself a schedule of events was available for each area or resources.
Typically, after the lecture the night before, people would now log on and continue the discussion, or if they missed it, they could download a podcast version. In the next week it would be up to Jim to post the response to Maugham's challange and then defend his view if possible. The only rules were respectful discourse and no personal attacks. Passion was not disallowed, but openness and safety were held in high regard so that people felt free to speak.
Of course there were sporadic incidents. Those incidents were usually handled calmly by Jim, or directly by Roo, or more directly by Maugham on rare occasions.
Maugham could look scary if he wanted to. His long flowing brown hair with the "Braveheart" braids down the left side, in addition to his imposing size gave off warrior blood.
But he had only had to use it a few times and understood Jim's policy of non-violence.
There had beena poetry reading a few months back in the Big Room. Some of the poets like Gordon MacAfee, Gene Black and a man who caleld himsefl "Hogboy" were all highly entertaining. But when self-proclaimed "poet laureate' of the area got up and started a long poem about his fixation with other cocks one gentleman in the back took grave exception.
And he was drunk and probably using Maugham's old trick of bringing in a sports bottle.
Jim saw him first headed towards the stage and intercepted him with a smile and by placing himself between the man and the stage by a good twenty feet.
"You look upset," he whisperd to the Marine.
"That cocksucker should die. He's a disgrace."
Jim could see Maugham over the man's left shoulder start in his direction, but he wave him off with a quick shake of the head.
"I agree," Jim whispered, "he isn't very good and I hope he finishes soon."
"I think I'll just beat your ass first" he said a little more loudly.
"You are obviously a Marine, right?" Jim whispered even softer and the Marine had a hard time hearing him.
"Fucking A right I'm a Marine" he said lower.
"Look, I respect the hell out of anyone in uniform. I can tell you are upset. Maybe with good reason."
"You'll respect me more when I kick your ass," he hissed.
Jim towered over the smaller man, but said simply "I am certain you could make quick work of me." As he said this he put has hands at his sides straight down in a relaxed manner.
"I do not deny it. But I cannot let you or anyone else hurt someone else here. So, let's you and I go to my hangout and I'll buy you a beer and we can just talk."
The man took a step back and Jim said "C'mon...I'm buying." and led him out the door. As he got past Maugham he flicked his hand behind him. Everything was fine.
An hour later when everyone was gone Jim returned and Maugham said "what happened?"
"I just listened. He had a lot of weight."
"YOu gave him more alcohol?"
"Yeah, we had some stouts and talked. Then I took him down the elevator and stuffed him in a cab with directions. I told him we would look after his car and make sure it was safe. before he left he hugged me."
**********
On this Tuesday morning Maugham was having trouble focusing. he kept drifting to Martine.
It was kind of a classic Han Solo/Princess Leia relationship with Maugham always putting his foot in his mouth and Martine being the slightly stiff, but beautiful princess.
"Ah fucket!" he said aloud.
"Fuck what Maug?" asked Andy looking up from three screens oevr (he wass updating events on the site).
"I don't feel much like talkingAndy. Sorry."
Andy went back to updating, which was slow because major crumbs from the day-old crumb cake kept bouncing off the keyboard. When that happened., Andy would grab the aerisol can and shoot the keyboard.
This annoyed Maugham, but it was Andy's cave after all.
Maugham ran through his mind those who had been in a few times the previous day. None of them was the least bit suspicious, and if it had not been for the untraceable nature (some sort of software to hide the ip address) Maugham would have just thought someone was having them on as a prank.
It could still be that, of course.
Maugham IM'd Jim on Yahoo and asked about his email. But Jim hadn't received anything new.
Then Maugham went through the member profiles. he disliked doing this because it seemed against the spirit of Azotus. But it was public information and Maugham wanted to see who had recently joined.
The online community contained over 3,100 profiles, each posted by either locals, or visitors, or just people who liked the Cafe even though tyhey had never been there physically. There were Azotus fans in Boston, New York, Maine, Texas, Tennasee, Portland, Seattle, San Diego and Canada. Jim corresponded with several of them, posted their articles, encouraged them in their writings and tried to help them make connections where he could.
Jim, and or Andy, also highlighted their Blogs and Jim read ten different ones a day from 1 to 2 p.m. and made comments. There was meaning to his madness. He figured that someday these fine folk would work with him to create an Azotus in their city. The flavor for each one would be different based on the community, but it would be an Azotus.
Maugham did a localized serach for new members in the area for the last month. He figured whoever was watching them had both an agenda and enough anonymity.
They didn't do last names, or at least there was only one field for the name.
Cara
Theodore
Pursed_Lips
Fag_Boy
Whipper
William
Rand ("gee why did it take him so long?")
Sex ("bet she's enormous")
Derrick
Smithey
Bolero
Kumsquaitshot ("what an idiot")
Macsniper
Del
Patti
Mitzee
The_Queen
IPfreely
Dickey
Zara
Hunan
Rickey
Brad
Wademan
Potifor
Iceman
Phynix
TommyBoy
Cartesian_Hunter
Rachel
Simplex
Susan
Tyne
Whispah
Pinhead
Freebird
"ah shit...." he sighed. "This is hopeless."
There was little profit simply because when there was Jim spent it on improvements to the grounds, the building or other side projects of his own devising. When it was time to tally at the end of the year they threw a holiday potluck which enabled Jim to hand out fatter checks from profit-sharing. It was during that same day they would sit around with the cafe closed, walk the grounds together and dream for the next year. Jim's philosophy was while there had to be a main boss, the decisions should be made in community. He had surrounded himself mostly with very smart and hard-working people who loved coming to work most days. He intended to keep them happy and appreciated.
And they were happy. Mostly. On days off it was not uncommon to see Renata and Rand walking the grounds, or Ward sitting up on the deck reading a Sedaris book, or Ian down in the art studio painting with oils.
Jim saw Azotus architecturally in his mind. At the core it was a "Third space" that people came to experience as a communal home away from home. It served the same community function as cafes in France, or pubs in Ireland. Regulars developed special privileges like occasional free food, free refills, personal emails from staff about events and always being acknowledged by name.
And the community was extending and deepening thanks to their growing Internet presense. Those who visited the cafe were encouraged to create an online profile at Azotuscafe.com. Those who did not have computers or were intimidated by them, could stop in the IC and Andy would walk them through it, scan a picture and help them feel at ease. He was a very kind soul and infinitely patient.
Off the front page you could navigate to a number of areas of interest. Modeled after the building itself a schedule of events was available for each area or resources.
Typically, after the lecture the night before, people would now log on and continue the discussion, or if they missed it, they could download a podcast version. In the next week it would be up to Jim to post the response to Maugham's challange and then defend his view if possible. The only rules were respectful discourse and no personal attacks. Passion was not disallowed, but openness and safety were held in high regard so that people felt free to speak.
Of course there were sporadic incidents. Those incidents were usually handled calmly by Jim, or directly by Roo, or more directly by Maugham on rare occasions.
Maugham could look scary if he wanted to. His long flowing brown hair with the "Braveheart" braids down the left side, in addition to his imposing size gave off warrior blood.
But he had only had to use it a few times and understood Jim's policy of non-violence.
There had beena poetry reading a few months back in the Big Room. Some of the poets like Gordon MacAfee, Gene Black and a man who caleld himsefl "Hogboy" were all highly entertaining. But when self-proclaimed "poet laureate' of the area got up and started a long poem about his fixation with other cocks one gentleman in the back took grave exception.
And he was drunk and probably using Maugham's old trick of bringing in a sports bottle.
Jim saw him first headed towards the stage and intercepted him with a smile and by placing himself between the man and the stage by a good twenty feet.
"You look upset," he whisperd to the Marine.
"That cocksucker should die. He's a disgrace."
Jim could see Maugham over the man's left shoulder start in his direction, but he wave him off with a quick shake of the head.
"I agree," Jim whispered, "he isn't very good and I hope he finishes soon."
"I think I'll just beat your ass first" he said a little more loudly.
"You are obviously a Marine, right?" Jim whispered even softer and the Marine had a hard time hearing him.
"Fucking A right I'm a Marine" he said lower.
"Look, I respect the hell out of anyone in uniform. I can tell you are upset. Maybe with good reason."
"You'll respect me more when I kick your ass," he hissed.
Jim towered over the smaller man, but said simply "I am certain you could make quick work of me." As he said this he put has hands at his sides straight down in a relaxed manner.
"I do not deny it. But I cannot let you or anyone else hurt someone else here. So, let's you and I go to my hangout and I'll buy you a beer and we can just talk."
The man took a step back and Jim said "C'mon...I'm buying." and led him out the door. As he got past Maugham he flicked his hand behind him. Everything was fine.
An hour later when everyone was gone Jim returned and Maugham said "what happened?"
"I just listened. He had a lot of weight."
"YOu gave him more alcohol?"
"Yeah, we had some stouts and talked. Then I took him down the elevator and stuffed him in a cab with directions. I told him we would look after his car and make sure it was safe. before he left he hugged me."
**********
On this Tuesday morning Maugham was having trouble focusing. he kept drifting to Martine.
It was kind of a classic Han Solo/Princess Leia relationship with Maugham always putting his foot in his mouth and Martine being the slightly stiff, but beautiful princess.
"Ah fucket!" he said aloud.
"Fuck what Maug?" asked Andy looking up from three screens oevr (he wass updating events on the site).
"I don't feel much like talkingAndy. Sorry."
Andy went back to updating, which was slow because major crumbs from the day-old crumb cake kept bouncing off the keyboard. When that happened., Andy would grab the aerisol can and shoot the keyboard.
This annoyed Maugham, but it was Andy's cave after all.
Maugham ran through his mind those who had been in a few times the previous day. None of them was the least bit suspicious, and if it had not been for the untraceable nature (some sort of software to hide the ip address) Maugham would have just thought someone was having them on as a prank.
It could still be that, of course.
Maugham IM'd Jim on Yahoo and asked about his email. But Jim hadn't received anything new.
Then Maugham went through the member profiles. he disliked doing this because it seemed against the spirit of Azotus. But it was public information and Maugham wanted to see who had recently joined.
The online community contained over 3,100 profiles, each posted by either locals, or visitors, or just people who liked the Cafe even though tyhey had never been there physically. There were Azotus fans in Boston, New York, Maine, Texas, Tennasee, Portland, Seattle, San Diego and Canada. Jim corresponded with several of them, posted their articles, encouraged them in their writings and tried to help them make connections where he could.
Jim, and or Andy, also highlighted their Blogs and Jim read ten different ones a day from 1 to 2 p.m. and made comments. There was meaning to his madness. He figured that someday these fine folk would work with him to create an Azotus in their city. The flavor for each one would be different based on the community, but it would be an Azotus.
Maugham did a localized serach for new members in the area for the last month. He figured whoever was watching them had both an agenda and enough anonymity.
They didn't do last names, or at least there was only one field for the name.
Cara
Theodore
Pursed_Lips
Fag_Boy
Whipper
William
Rand ("gee why did it take him so long?")
Sex ("bet she's enormous")
Derrick
Smithey
Bolero
Kumsquaitshot ("what an idiot")
Macsniper
Del
Patti
Mitzee
The_Queen
IPfreely
Dickey
Zara
Hunan
Rickey
Brad
Wademan
Potifor
Iceman
Phynix
TommyBoy
Cartesian_Hunter
Rachel
Simplex
Susan
Tyne
Whispah
Pinhead
Freebird
"ah shit...." he sighed. "This is hopeless."
posted by Obi-Mac BakDon | 7:17 AM
1 Comments:
we have a coffee shop near where i work called "the third place"
i like the idea . . .
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