Lo staff

The staff of a caffè that never opens.

My uncle does not believe in websites, so I was told to introduce everyone. They are drawn, not photographed, because the caffè is a story. I am the one who is real.

Five of them, if you count the cat.

Everyone counts the cat.

  • Illustrated portrait of Bea, the barista, standing at the end of the marble bar

    Bea

    The barista

  • Illustrated portrait of Tino, the mechanic, arms folded with a wrench under one arm

    Tino

    The mechanic

  • Illustrated portrait of Signora Pina leaning on the bar beside the brass register, one eyebrow raised

    Signora Pina

    At the register

  • Illustrated portrait of Ristretto, a small black cat, sitting upright on the marble bar

    Ristretto

    The shop cat

  • Illustrated portrait of the redheaded nephew with a closed laptop under one arm

    Il nipote

    The nephew, and the internet

Bea, the barista

I run everything. I am not complaining.

Somebody has to pull the shots, answer the messages and write the grazie cards, and it is me. I dial in every bag before it goes out. If your espresso runs fast, I will know before you do. I am not complaining. I am telling you.

Illustration of Bea tamping a shot at the brass lever machine behind the marble bar

Behind the bar

  • Illustration of Tino crouched with a wrench beside the red number 62 scooter outside the closed caffè door
    Tino, the mechanic

    One wrench. Two machines.

    I keep the scooter running and I fix the espresso machine, with the same wrench, because it is a good wrench. The Moto Club things are mine. They are made the way I would make a part: heavy, simple, and meant to outlast the argument about them.

  • Illustration of Signora Pina at the brass register under the chalk menu of drinks never served
    Signora Pina, at the register

    Il conto. Pay it.

    I have kept the books since before there were books. I approve of nothing. I send the shipping emails, which is where you will meet me. Your order leaves when it is paid and packed properly, and not before. Grazie.

  • Illustration of Ristretto the black cat sitting on the bare marble bar beside the espresso machine
    Ristretto, the shop cat

    Small, dark, intense.

    Ristretto does not do copy, so I am writing this one. He sits on the marble, he watches the machine, and he is on the stickers and the pin because he would not allow anyone else to be. He has opinions about coffee. He keeps them.

Il nipote, the nephew

The one who put it online.

I am the redheaded nephew who handles the internet, and outside this story I am Garth, who started Volarosso in Charleston. The caffè is invented. The coffee is roasted by a local Charleston roaster, the goods are made to last, and when you write, a real person reads it. Usually me.

Read the story
Illustration of the redheaded nephew typing on a laptop at a table by the window, Ristretto the black cat watching from the next chair