I used to be a morning person, emphasis on past tense. But, rumor has it, I can have breakfast with Herb Kohl if I’m up early and at the Pfister Café. In a Herculean effort, I made it there early and was rewarded with coffee but no Kohl.
I have to say, that I thought I’d encounter a quiet morning with few people around, but I was wrong. Apparently, the world is a morning person and takes up arms at the Pfister on a weekday. A series of low rumblings and coffee cups clinking equated the slow hum of a delicate alarm clock rather than the surprise and excitement of happy hour.
The men in the next booth were rehearsing for a presentation. A silver fox sat facing his three colleagues, who circled him as he coached. If it were dinner, if the lighting weren’t as bright and if they had their suit jackets on, I’d wonder if we were filming The Godfather 4. But it was breakfast and based on the presentation they were part of the conference upstairs.
The other curious image of the Pfister in the morning is men’s shirt sleeves. They’re out there for the world to see. Collections of businessmen all gathering for their day left their dark, imposing jackets draped in the backdrop. Instead, the restaurant and lobby were filled with vulnerable, crisp white shirt sleeves.
In my current job, the first time I came to the public budget hearing was overwhelming. The Common Council chamber was filled with hundreds of firefighters, all there to speak on how the budget affected them. Though that was indeed an appealing site and a set of calendar images waiting to happen, the morning view at the Pfister is just as invigorating. Singles everywhere claim they’re “tired of the bar scene” so I would encourage them to try a new tactic. Coffee at the Pfister Café is the businessman’s version of the firefighter calendar waiting to happen. The professional men, their guard (and jackets) down, seemed to ooze out of every hallway and booth.
But it wasn’t just the well-dressed men that made it appealing. Everything is fresh and new. Quinn, a front of house staffer at the hotel, joined me in surveying the day’s roster. Who would be in, what conferences were happening, what would the hotel see today—the raw potential of the day seemed to host an energy for guests and staff alike.
Morning at the Pfister is a far cry from the bar scene, but its energy, potential and opportunities are well worth the sleep you may give up to experience it. I felt guilty taking coffee to go knowing I was cheating on my regular baristas…until I bumped into an assistant coach for a professional basketball team on my way out of the café. Sorry Starbucks, no espresso can kick off a morning like this.