A Space in Time

                                                      (Courtesy of Epoch Coffee)

A late-night hang out place is as rare as a sober frat boy on Sixth Street.  Too often do we satisfy our nocturnal cravings at any dingy pizzeria with fluorescent lighting or pack down french fries at Whataburger.

            Although eateries like Katz Delicatessen are open 24-hours, many hungry coffee-drinking  insomniacs are unaware of a more unconventional venue--Epoch Coffee.

            Voted the Best 24-Hour Coffeehouse in 2006 by the Austin Chronicle, Epoch is the ultimate  all-night java house that caters to the sleepless, hipster, caffeine junkies in all of us.  Epoch’s assortment of baked treats, java drinks, pizza and free Wi-Fi lures customers at all hours.

            The brain child of three ex-baristas from Mojo’s Daily Grind, an edgy coffee shop that used to be on the drag, Epoch became the go-to spot for their “punk clad, graffiti loving, [and] alternative regulars,” say owner Kevin Gary. The other two tattoo-clad owners, Chris Clarkson and Joe Rodriguez, nod approvingly as Gary explains the difference between Epoch and Mojo's.

            Unlike Mojo’s’ hardcore core vibe, Epoch welcomes any Austinite in search of a different but interesting scene.

            “It’s a pretty eclectic, unique, thoughtful, calm place for people to learn through social interaction of whatever they are working on,” explains Jessica Douglas, an Epoch barista for three years.

            The typical Epoch patrons are the “philosopher types who read Nietzsche, hang out, smoke on the patio, talk or get work done,” says Douglas.

            Epoch’s multifarious décor only ferments the locale’s artistic ambience.

            Complete with a Starbucks sign strategically mutated to spell out a four-letter curse word, Epoch is furbished by a collection of vintage and mismatched chairs, tables and dangling lamps.

            “It [Epoch] feels like your quirky grandma’s living room with much better background music,” says Marielle Bouffier, an Epoch regular.

            Yet unlike your grandmother’s living room, Epoch has a few quirks of its own.

            Don’t expect pristine restrooms or life-changing coffee. Although the restrooms are sub-par and the coffee is decent, the restroom walls boast amusing socialist commentary, and the coffee serves it purpose--getting you through all-nighters.

            Expect to see longhaired men playing four-way chess, tattooed anarchists chatting up a storm, and quiet intellectuals typing furiously, all while indie music plays in the background. Also, expect the music to get stranger as the night progresses.

            “The definition of Epoch is a space in time,” says Douglas. “[It makes you] nostalgic for a time we never even lived in.”