Posted by: Nysssa

You may remember the Septa strike in Philadelphia.  Perhaps you live here and couldn’t get anywhere.  Perhaps you just heard us complain about it.  If you don’t know, long story short is that our public transit workers went on strike, leaving commuters stranded and drivers vying even more ruthlessly for Philly’s famous parking.

So what are knitters to do without a good way to get to or from our beloved Higher Grounds but find a more transit-less friendly location for our mid-strike dose of sanity?  We decided we’d go to T Bar, located at 117 South 12th Street,  and online at www.tbarteas.com

It has seating, food, tea, and we can get there without being affected too much by the strike, great!

Or not.

We were able to snag some semi-comfortable spots near the window, and I went up to the counter to order a beverage and a sandwich.  I’m not the best at decision making and hadn’t been there before, so I decided to ask the barista for a tea suggestion.  I didn’t want caffeine, or anything else that might keep me up, so I smiled nicely and asked for a recommendation.  Apparently, it was an inconvenient question.

“What kind of tea do you recommend?”  I asked.  I’m pretty sure I was being friendly.  I try to be friendly with people who are making me things that I will be putting in my mouth.

“It depends on what kind of mood you are in.” Well that’s great.  I’m starting to get cranky – do they serve cranky tea?  I don’t have a mood, I just want a good cup of tea that someone else finds enjoyable so I don’t have to think about it or make a decision.

“Well, what is your favorite?” That is more specific, right?  I want to know what he likes.

“It depends on what kind of mood I’m in.”  Well, damn, that’s helpful. I’m trying to give you money here, emo boy!

“Ok, well, what are you drinking tonight?”

“Rooibos Bourbon”

“That’s decaf right?” (Yeah, I walked into this one)

“Well, not really decaf, because that implies that there is caffeine in the tea to begin with…” (Now, readers, I know that rooibos isn’t caffeinated to begin with, but I just wanted to make sure that there wasn’t anything sneaky in it that might keep me awake, and phrased my question in an improper way – but you should have seen him recoil with fear at my lack of proper terminology)

“Sounds great.  I’ll try it.”  I also ordered a Thai Chicken Wrap, because I like to eat, and it had peanut sauce on it, and I love peanut sauce.

I paid, sat down, and admired Jo’s tea pot and cute cup of tea.  How nice.  My tea came out in a paper cup.  Oh, I didn’t know there were options.  I wanted fancier dishes.  Oh well.  I sipped the tea.  It was FABULOUS.  Really really good.  I’m glad emo boy was in the mood for it.

Then my wrap came out and it looked very pretty.  I took a bite.  It was chicken. And some lettuce.  And a hint of maybe some peanut sauce that thought about coming out of the bottle but just didn’t feel like it that night.  Oh well, it was food.

Andrea has by now arrived, and has ordered herself some tea and a tasty something, and she gets a pretty tea pot too.  Our wonderful emo salesboy didn’t even try to sell me more than one cup of tea.  Whatever.  I know I can resteep my bag and have a second cup later anyway, if not two.

Andrea sits down, starts eating, and Jo decides that perhaps she should eat food too.  She heads up to the counter, talks to emo boy, then comes back with a package of cookies.

“What did you get?”

“Nothing, they turned the grill off and aren’t making any more sandwiches tonight.”

It’s maybe 8 pm by this point, at the very latest, and I really think it was more like 730.  They close at 9.

I give Jo the second half of my not so impressive chicken wrap, and she too is underwhelmed.

We sip our tea, chat, and knit, deciding at least we were comfortable and knitting and therefore not tearing our hair out or wanting to attack anybody.

Then the cleaning started.  First there was sweeping, and the moving of chairs onto tabletops.  We look at the time, we check on the door.  They are open until 9, we aren’t crazy.  Then the mop and the mop bucket comes out.  And then the bottle of Pine Sol.

Now, I love the scent of a freshly cleaned room that has been mopped down with Pine Sol.  When it’s properly mixed with water and I’m not sitting, visiting with friends, trying to drink my tea, and knitting.  However, this was not properly diluted.  This was more like most of a bottle of Pine Sol and very little water.  And it’s at least an hour if not more until the store closes, and we are obviously settled in and planning on staying for a while, and we’ve all made purchases and aren’t just squatters taking up space.

We stuck it out until almost 9 pm.  But the the smell of Pine Sol and the obvious desire of the staff to have us leave so they could close up and go home chased us away.

So, if you want a nice cup of tea, I would say that as long as you know what you want, and what kind of mood you are in, and don’t want a suggestion from the staff, stop in and grab a cup and leave before it’s time for them to clean something and give you headache as well.