Most places are like this: you drop in, get what you need, and leave. It’s nothing but a transaction, an errand, a stop on the way to somewhere else. You come and you go. But not so for coffee shops. At coffee shops, you come, and you stay.

Beyond the doors of Portland Brew and Frothy Monkey and Revelator is something personal: the aroma of your favorite roast, the simple lighting above you, the warm wood below you, the artwork, the seating. It’s the ideal setting for a conversation, for a place to sit and to think and to be. Coffee shops invite you to slow down, to engage in the moment. They are a haven from the fast-paced world. They are a place to inspire: the atmosphere’s art and design stir something within you, something new and original and creative. They are familiar–the kind of familiar that reminds you of home on Christmas day, that makes you nostalgic, and sentimental, and happy. They remind you of a time when life was easier, when things just made sense.

You grew up taught not to talk to strangers, but in coffee shops, there are no strangers. You talk to the people around you; you learn that the gentleman to your right just accepted a new job or that the mother to your left grew up in Seattle her whole life and is new in town. You share your story and they share theirs. Acquaintances become friends and friends become close.

You even get to know the barista who makes your coffee. Your drink tastes better when you know the craftsman behind it. You respect their trade and you learn about it, too. Your relationship begins with your common interest in coffee and after the second, third, and tenth visit, you know each other even better. And every time you come back, you greet each other by name. “Hello, Lauren.” “Goodbye, Lauren.” Every greeting makes you feel like you belong. And you do belong.

What makes coffee shops so special? It’s not that you merely come; it’s that you stay.