The Daily Growl
As Danny stepped into The Daily Growl, the sounds of the busy city faded into a muted background. The maglev busses and crowds on the sidewalk of Arch Street turned into a quiet hum. The air inside was warm and filled with the rich aroma of roasted coffee, signaling the start of another workday.
The interior of the café was brutalist, not at all like the sleek coffee shops a few blocks away. Inside the floor was polished concrete, the walls brushed steel, and the only lighting came from the large, inauspicious glass windows facing the street. There were no baristas or friendly chatter, just the sounds of grinders and steam wands, and the soft padding of paws.
He walked past the register, which at this point was only a relic that was never used. A touchscreen monitor on the wall allowed him to tap in his order, syncing with his smartwatch to setup a personalized interface.
“Welcome back Danny. The Usual?” the screen prompted.
At the top of the screen was a one-tap button to select his order, with a variety of other options below. Danny tapped the large “Yes” button, confirming his order of a Large Oat Milk Latte with a pump of caramel.
Already authorized with his watch, the kiosk confirmed his payment with a soft, high-pitched chime. He saw the order #106 flash on the large display. Then he turned towards the service counter to watch the process unfold, still enticing even after several months of visits.
A stocky Bernese Mountain Dog stood patiently near the grinder with a thick tricolor coat. A red light started blinking on its console, causing a pre-measured quantity of dark beans to fall into a small steel hopper.
The dog, whose name was Gus according to the small digital nameplate on his harness, nudged a wide padded lever with his front paws. The lever turned the grinder on, causing it to grind up the beans into a fine powder. Once the dog finished, he withdrew from the lever, allowing the ground espresso to funnel into a portafilter.
A small Border Collie jumped up and down energetically as the grounds approached. Her eyes watched the dust closely. Using her nose, she nudged the portafilter into an espresso machine sitting on a small stool. A set of large pads lit up on the floor, each of which were wired into equivalent controls on the machine. The Collie tapped out a sequence that caused a mechanical tamper to compress the grounds, begin the extraction, and pour a stream of espresso into a waiting mug below.
At the same time, a Golden Retriever saw a red blinking light at her station for the oat milk frother. Her head cocked to the side as she watched the light intently. When the light turned from blinking to solid, that indicated the milk had reached the ideal temperature. Her mouth gently closed around the rubber handle of the steel pitcher, pulling it from the frother and pouring it into the mug carefully until it nearly overflowed.
Finally, a Greyhound grabbed the mug and placed it on a gyroscopically stabilized tray. The dog trotted over to a small blinking light above the caramel syrup dispenser. With a precise dip of her head, she activated the pump, adding the perfect amount of syrup to the latte. Then he grabbed the tray again and trotted over the pickup counter, sliding it into the slot for order #106.
Danny stepped forward and grabbed the latte from the shelf and gave a short thanks. He took a sip, inhaling the warm beverage with a relief. The oat milk was perfectly frothed, the caramel adding a sweet touch to the rich espresso. He looked down at the Greyhound, who was sitting patiently by the counter, awaiting her next task.
Was it weird? Sure. A few years ago this would’ve been science fiction. Now it’s just Tuesday. Danny thought about his childhood dog, a mutt named Barney who spent most of his time chasing squirrels and shedding fur on every piece of furniture. He missed his dog sometimes, but couldn’t help but wonder if this was better.
Danny considered reaching down to pet the Greyhound, but quickly thought the better of it. There were signs hanging on every wall reminding customers “do not interact with canine staff”. Still, the Greyhound’s fur looked so soft and warm, and it was so cold outside. For a brief moment, Danny’s hand reached forward. The dog’s ear posture softened and its ear twitched slightly. Still, both of them had jobs to do. Danny pulled his hand back quickly, and the Greyhound trotted back to her station.
With the mug in-hand, he stepped out the doors back into the chilly Philadelphia morning and headed for the SEPTA station. His coffee order tasted perfect, as always. Bizarre, yes. But undeniably efficient.