Originally published Saturday, June 7, 1997

By JON HAHN  
SEATTLE POST-INTELLIGENCER COLUMNIST

More than a dozen years ago, John Sharpnack was a high school student pumping gas and cleaning windshields at the tiny Rainier Beach Mobil Service down at the corner.

He doesn't do windows anymore, but he's back under the service station canopy pumping enough espresso to rev up a whole lot of local commuters on Rainier Avenue South.

Their gas gauges may read almost empty, but hey, this is Seattle, and they're not about to go many miles without their custom coffee. John waves at the happy, coffee-hip customers who honk their horns if they're not stopping for their regular dark brew. He knows they'll be stopping for coffee in a matter of hours.

As the out-front, very public half of the tiny J & M Espresso Co., run with wife Michelle, John turns on the lights and grinds the first beans just after 5 every morning (6 a.m., Saturdays; closed Sundays) under the gas station canopy where 57th Avenue South joins the four-lane commuter route on Rainier South.

On clear mornings, he can see Lake Washington between buildings of the Spinnaker Bay condos across the avenue. But he's usually too busy to be horizon gazing, especially in rush hours when folks pull in close to the old gas pump island for their quick-fix lattes or double tall skinnies.

John and Michelle seem to be riding the crest of Seattle's coffee binge that sees small espresso vendors come and go like the tides, especially in this neighborhood, where their two closest competitors went belly-up in recent months.

If it's a crap shoot, John seems to be rolling naturals. And liking life out on the corner.

"I really enjoy the openness and talking to all the customers about whatever," said the 30-year-old entrepreneur with a casual candor. "I guess I didn't expect to get that much out of it."

And there's something special about being able to make it in the old neighborhood, not far from where John went to Rainier Beach High.

"It's really a good area, and I feel good about our being here. I grew up here, and there are lots of good people living and working here," he said.

Easy to say now. Or at least, easier than almost two years ago, when after more than four years in management at various Nordstrom shoe departments, John decided his shoes were made for walking.

"I guess it was burnout. I was working 55 to 60 hours a week and obsessed with it. I even was dreaming about shoes! And there was stress. But I thought I was handling it. And I was a company man, all the way."

Now he's the company.

"And I work more hours here, but I enjoy it. My hours, even though they're long, are flexible. Michelle will come down and spell me off, and I'll get a chance to go home for a while and play with our son, Michael."

Even though he knew the old neighborhood, putting everything they had and a bunch of borrowed money into an espresso cart here on the corner was admittedly terrifying for the former Marine.

"We had looked into all sorts of franchises, like fast-printing places, quick-oil-change shops, those type of operations, and they all required a whole lot more money than we could get," John said as he ground more coffee beans.

As he talks, he gets an order from a woman in a Toyota and begins making another for a man in a pickup who knows that John knows what he wants.

"Even when we decided on coffee and got help learning the business from the wholesaler and whatnot, it was scary," John admits. "The first two weeks were a nightmare. If there were two cars here at the same time, I was freaking out!

"We never would've made it without my folks (Bob and Irma Sharpnack)," he's quick to add. "They're retired, and we were able to move in with them and we lived off our savings until we had this lined up. And we've been lucky: We gave ourselves maybe a year to make it, and we reached the break-even point after about eight months. But it's 21 months now since we opened, and we still can't afford to hire someone, so I'm putting in the long hours."

There are other downsides, including opening on dark winter mornings when rain or snow discourages customer stops as much as the weather puts a damper on the barista.

"Some days were so slow that I'd open and then pass the time by shoveling all the sidewalks and even the driveways," John said. "I tried gloves, but it's too hard to grab cups and work this operation with gloves on. You can always stay warm by putting more layers on, but that wind . . . sometimes it blows through here so hard it takes the paper cups right out from under!"

But having survived that and now going full-steam with a steady stream of regular customers daily, life's looking good alongside Rainier Avenue. They've expanded the selection of cookies and pastries, added daily specials (cinnamon lattes are $2 single, $2.35 double) and even squeezed in fresh-squeezed orange juice. That's if you don't want a Kiwi Cream Soda or any of the 22 other soda or coffee flavors. And of course, regular customers get coffee club cards punched for a free eighth cup.

Michelle rather likes the arrangement where she combines being mother, homemaker and coffee supplies shopper and occasional relief barista. "We have it all worked out: I keep our home running, and we help one another out in the business."

That includes the important decisions and occasional heated arguments over what kind of chocolate flavorings to use ("She's the expert," John concedes), what kind of syrups, and coffee supplies.

"We think we've got the best," John said. "We always stop for coffee when we're out, like on a Sunday, and we've found out there's a lot of bad coffee out there!"

But not at J & M.

"We drink it too, and we have to like it," John said. "This is an expensive cup of coffee for some people, and they're treating themselves, so it's gotta be good."

All those honking horns say it is.

Jon Hahn is a staff columnist who writes three times a week in the P-I.