ann arbor is overrated.

Ah, Cafe Zola, my beloved Cafe Zola. The one place in town where you could get good coffee in a ceramic cup and sit alone until midnight, rising occasionally to get free refills from the cute-but-disaffected counter person and stir in lumps of crystallized sugar.

Sure, you played far too much jazz and Broadway music, but you had the right spirit. You are where I met that friend of a friend who completely blew me off over e-mail later when I first moved here, and you were there when I needed to look vaguely aloof while reading papers.

Now you are a full-service restaurant, with waiters and waitresses. Maybe I’ll bring my grandma for brunch next time she’s in town.