Sitting in a latte palace or a coffee closet, it’s all the same to your browser.  And if you’re one of those wide-eyed laptop loungers I’ve seen staring to intently into their screens, I’m tempted to jump up and down in front of them to see if they flinch, it’s all the same to you, too.

It’s like those romantic, camera-spins-around-you kisses, where everything falls away: when you’re on the Internet, space doesn’t matter.

Even if I wanted to do that at Hotwire Online Coffee in West Seattle, there'd be no room. But that's the beauty of it. Long as your eyes have enough room to gaze lovingly but not too lovingly into the computer screen, it's no big whoop. Besides, the littleness of this place (We're talking little. After I ordered my blueberry scone, I asked the barista, politely, if there was another section of the building I wasn't seeing. He said no.) is charming in a quaint, smalltown-in-a-big-city kind of way.

If the size had any effect at all on the customers, it weeded out the IT techies, the "this is my office" online workers and the mixed bag that is the big city crowd. Just about everyone who walked in through the gate and walked up to the counter greeted the baristas by name. A few didn't even have to specify what they wanted. They weren't kidding when they said the place, with its handful of computer terminals, two tables and lounge chair, had regulars. They just didn't mention how few could fit at a time.

It wasn't my typical wi-fi trip for two reasons. One, apparently the West Seattle Bloggers aren't the only ones who want to remain anonymous in this part of town. Three people refused to give me their names. One, a collector of vintage scuba gear who stops in to check out VintageScubaSupply.com and VintageDoubleHose.com for the latest gear (we talked a good 10, 15 minutes about scuba gear) -- even after I showed him my blog was perfectly harmless (right?) -- would only give me "Bob."