Goodbye, Seattle's.

I'd only stopped there once, but I often thought, happily, about a cool little music venue/coffee house/tavern in Wooster, Ohio called Seattle's. I liked the unusual bar/barista esthetic; how the barfly next to me was drinking a double espresso, how the smell of cookies mixed with the aroma of hops.

The atmosphere felt piquantly wholesome as the sunlight streamed in the undimmed front windows, backlighting the bubbles slowly sinking in my pint of Guinness, while entire families wandered past my barstool to order mocha lattes and warm cookies.

Though I never heard a lick of music there, I also learned that Seattle's eschewed cover bands, and I liked that, too.

When I passed through town again a couple of months ago, I discovered just an empty storefront where my favorite Wooster bar had been, dusty paper covering the inside of those generous sidewalk-front windows.

Except for my dreams, I'd seen the place only once, spent just one golden afternoon there, sipping stout, smelling cookies.

Why its passing made me so sad, I just don't know.