Another Sunday morning at the Six One Charlie
At the corner of Murray and Bartlett in Squirrel Hill lies the 61C Cafe, named after the bus route that stops at its front door; it has come to be my standard weekend morning hangout these last days in Pittsburgh. This is largely because, invariably, someone wants to come by at some insane hour of the morning to see the house. I’ve actually been woken up one Sunday morning by the sound of people in my living room due to a terrible misunderstanding between the realtors involved. And if I have to hide away from my house for half an hour on a Sunday morning, there might as well be some damn good coffee involved.
I suppose I should be happy that my house is still showing at such a healthy clip eight months in, especially in a market we're all told is bad, bad, bad, but I'd be much happier if some of the people stopping by had giant piles of cash (francs preferred, dollars accepted... for now); instead, I have the distinct impression that I'm running a relatively low-volume, somewhat disappointing tourist attraction free of charge.
