Discovering A Hidden Coffee House In Nashville
When I was 18, I had an argument with my father that it shouldn’t matter who you know, but rather what you know. I’m still an optimist and a wee bit naive, but I wouldn’t argue that today. I’d say both matter. I can’t tell you where it is. I can’t tell you the name of the joint or how to get the information. You’ve got to know someone. Or get…