Anyplace that has three cookie jars laden with hunky treats and three types of mocha (dark, white, and Hershey's) qualifies as a great hangout. As a bonus, there are more cute, friendly, young people at Café Wyrd than at an Up With People rally. (Some of them are young men, but the first Wednesday of every month is Ladies' Night.) The mood in the morning--the place opens at 7:00 a.m.--is mellow, and Ella Fitzgerald may drift from the stereo. This is the time to go collect the newspaper from across the room by walking past a certain table; and then pick up a different section of the paper by walking past that same certain be repeated until you've gone through both local dailies, including the mutual-fund listings and the exotic-pet classifieds. During the day and into the evening, Moby or some more soulful selection plays. These are good hours to sit at the serpentine counter with an open notebook and "accidentally" get caught making a sketch of the woman a few stools down. The soundtrack at night is a crapshoot: By this point in the day, you're on your own. Luckily, you've got until the one o'clock closing time to seal the deal.


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