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I come for the coffee.
See, this place has phenomenal brew, beans to make your eyes spin. I’d walk over broken glass, I swear, feet covered in lemon juice, for just a sip.

Because it’s an art. Alchemy of the black aroma. Takes skill, a bit of hands on finesse.

My first introduction to Avenue G came under less than auspicious circumstances. I was homeless and trapped in a terrible spiral of hopelessness. Well, maybe i’m over egging things but, you know, circumstances were in a state of sucking. Now, you might think Briars road in the affluent west end is a weird place for someone who is homeless to be kicking about but there’s a hotel around the corner on great western road that puts us transients up on behalf of social services. I’d scored a room there through luck more than anything else as they tended only to take women. Naturally, I wanted to spend as little time as possible sat in my room mulling over my situation as possible so I took myself off for a wander.

This is how I stumbled upon Avenue G.

A disclaimer. I seriously love coffee. I love how it smells, how it tastes, how it makes me feel. The good stuff is orgasmic to me. I’m getting shivers just thinking about it. If it wasn’t so socially acceptable I’d probably be made to join some 12 step programme. Not that I would, but they’d certainly try.

There was a chalk board outside the cafe. It proclaimed manna from heaven. It spoke in language that made my tongue loll out of my mouth, like some drooling junkie. It caught my eye to be sure. So in I went.

I cannot begin to describe to you, through the feeble instrument of words, how it felt to be sitting outside Avenue G with a cup of their finest americano and a cigarette watching the world roll by. Suddenly, all was right. All was good. My troubles like ice melted away against the wisps of steam that rose from its obsidian surface.

From then on I was an acolyte of their gospel of awesome coffee, making regular pilgrimages to sup at the Altar of caffeinated goodness. Lucky for me I landed in maryhill, but a shortish walk to briars road, which certainly made these little missions less of a hassle. Sometimes I would be caught out by their closing time of 7pm which has forced me elsewhere, which happily also does awesome coffee. Not quite as good but still great. That place is, however, the topic for another post. Last time I was there they were playing a Beach Boys CD which had me tapping my table and singing along as I sipped my bliss – hence the name of this post.

So, to recap, Avenue G has the best coffee in Glasgow. Trust me and you shall not be disappointed.

Oh, they also do food. Menu looks pretty good.

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