They call me a digital nomad. I call myself a hostage of the corner table next to the power outlet. Six months ago, I walked into this café with a laptop, a dream, and a $4 oat milk latte. I haven’t left since.
The baristas know me by name. Actually, they know me by Wi-Fi password. I’ve become part of the furniture. Tourists take photos of me like I’m a local landmark: “And here we see the rare Laptop Guy in his natural habitat.”
The Ritual of Ordering Coffee I Can’t Afford
Every morning, I perform the sacred ritual: order the cheapest drink on the menu, then sit here for nine hours like I own the place. I’ve spent approximately €1,200 on cappuccinos, which is still cheaper than renting an office. My blood type is now 70% Arabica.
The barista doesn’t even ask anymore. She just slides me a mug and says, “Still pretending to work?” Yes, Maria. Yes, I am.
My Office Is a Table That Wobbles
Forget coworking spaces. Forget ergonomic chairs. My office is a table that wobbles every time someone breathes near it. My chair squeaks like it’s filing a complaint. My desk neighbor is a guy who loudly explains crypto to anyone within earshot.
And yet, this is where I’ve built my empire of half-finished Google Docs and unanswered Slack messages.
Networking, Café Edition
I’ve met other “digital nomads” here. One is writing a novel. He’s been on chapter one since April. Another is “launching a startup.” His startup is asking his parents for rent money. We all nod at each other like we’re in a secret society, but really, we’re just avoiding real jobs.
The Bathroom Is My Break Room
Corporate workers get water coolers. I get a bathroom key attached to a wooden spoon. That’s my break room. That’s where I go to cry when my Wi-Fi drops during a Zoom call.
The Harsh Reality
Six months in, I’ve realized I’m not a digital nomad. I’m a digital squatter. My “remote office” is a café playlist that hasn’t changed since 2019. My coworkers are latte foam and regret. My career trajectory is directly tied to whether or not this place stays in business.
But hey — at least I’ve got a killer WordPress theme to make it all look intentional.
