History

It's the day before Labor Day: I am headed back to my shabby little flat in an almost bad, almost ok - but somewhere in-between section of town. Hands buried in my pockets, wondering what the little fuzzy sharp scratchy thing is, unable to separate it from the rebelliously determined seam. Enjoying the walk, wondering what to do with myself.

I am relaxed; appreciating the clear grey sky, the acrid smell of burning leaves.  Wait, it's snowing... nobody's burning leaves. Curiously, strangely- like a guy with absolutely no plans (somewhat apropos, largely because I have no plans and I'm a guy)... I follow my nose, craning my neck, wondering where the smell is coming from.

I see no smoke, but notice a glint of dancing orange devils taunting me from a dirty car window.  I look for the source - a small, shabby building, humbly crouched at a self-conscious distance from the street. Before I can even process my own actions, I find myself crashing through the front window, tearing at my shoulder; shards of glass ringing like sleigh bells around my feet, cheeks instantly flushed from a solid wall of heat.  I am 10' 4.74" above my own body, give or take a yard or two, looking down with somewhat abject interest.

I can see them now. Quiet, scared, staring at me hopefully, pessimistically, yet whimsically, and various other randomly unrelated adverbs ending in -lly.

I dive over a stretching, yawning, lazily weaving wall of flames, landing in the best Karate Kid ninja stance ever, admiring my own form; my unwavering presence of mind and focus, the way my socks rakishly compliment my belt and wallet.  I gather the occupants in both arms, wriggling, fighting, not sure they want to be saved. A group of unborn, orphaned, bi-curious, hygienically-challenged, indigent and starving, illegally immigrated minority baby seals - and I pull them from their burning church, mindless of the searing flames that consume me.

Here I lie in traction, tubes like a thick tangled jungle around my hospital bed, hands and legs throbbing; now just bubbling, charred acrid stumps in white bandages, oozing yellow fluid. Endlessly beeping machines, sucking oxygen, bright lights and the steely glint of a waiting bedpan, complimenting the room with contemporary brushed stainless in its art deco-esque roundness.

I have no hands, no feet. I try to shout, but my throat is too burned from inhaling smoke at the orphanage, saving the nervous little splay-legged puppy dogs or seals or endangered Costa Rican penguins or little devout helpless starving homeless girl scouts or whatever they were.  No Do-Si-Dos or Thin Mints for sale; I'm going with blind puppies. 

Or is my throat just burned from sipping McDonald's coffee, before they thoughtfully labeled the errant cup with 'Contents of This Burning Hot Coffee Cup May Actually Be, In Fact, Rather Hot'?  Nah, it was the 'searing smoke' thingie I mentioned before, I'm sure of it.  (But I might go with the coffee story anyways, depending on what my attorney says.)

I am currently typing with the one tooth I have left. I also use it as a can opener, a corkscrew, and for zesting citrus fruits to make filling for the tarts I send to starving lost tribes in developing countries each year, along with penicillin and licensed copies of TurboTax software, thoughfully backwards compatible with XP... sensitively assuming they do not yet have Vista.

And it comes to me. Must. Have. Local coffee shop. And here, folks - here we are. Nervous Dog Coffee Bar & Roaster is born.

The REAL story:

The Nervous Dog Coffee Bar & Roaster opened its doors in September of 2006. Since our inception, Nervous Dog was different. Not just the same old chain in a different package, but truly set apart from the others. More than just an atmosphere to work, unwind or check out music and live events. More than the wide array of drinks hand-crafted by any of our expert baristas, using the finest coffees from local roasters and small, organic growers, or the best locally baked and deli items.

Yes, it's much more than that. So much that you voted us Best in Akron every year since we were just a pup. It's truly a place where you can: Come, Sit, Stay.

We do not aspire to compete with the corporate giants - we are quite content to let them duke it out with the other high margin, fast food chains. We regard other independent shops as colleagues, not competitors - we all celebrate involvement in local schools, charities, businesses - our town, our community, our priority.

We custom roast our beans at least twice per week... these have not aged while shipping from the West Coast. Come into our shop and drink a cup of coffee that was roasted on site, or take home a pound of beans still hot off the roaster if you time it well. We use the highest quality ingredients - Ghirardelli chocolate, Torani syrups, and organically grown and processed beans from the highest quality small plantations all over the world. We buy our baked goods from local, family-owned bakeries. And we're environmentally conscious, supporting Lights Out Akron, Sierra Club, Humane Society, local schools, charities, and other independently-owned businesses - we live here, too.