A Work2gether Fiction Series Riley checked the clock behind the bar. 8:57 a.m. She took a deep breath, wiped down the Terra Kaffe drip tray, and queued up a double espresso she had absolutely no time to drink. At 9:00 sharp, the door opened. Zay blew in like a category-three storm—hoodie half-zipped, smoothie in one hand, laptop in the other. "Yo Riley! Wi-Fi password again? Also, which tap’s the soda water? Also, do you validate parking?" Three questions before she'd finished her first sip of coffee. Today was going to be one of those days. At 9:32, Eddie swept through the front door, a rolled-up poster under one arm and that wild gleam in his eye. "Idea! Riley, listen—what if we host a 'Bring Your Dog to Work2gether Day'? People love dogs. People love coworking. We can call it Paw2gether." He was already unrolling the poster—a clip art nightmare of golden retrievers in business suits. Riley blinked. "No time like the present!" Eddie grinned and disappeared into his office. Riley turned back to the bar just in time for Zay to shout: "Uh, Riley? I think the laptop bar outlet just sparked." She closed her eyes for two full seconds before answering. "On my way." By 10:14, Shay needed help finding a working pen. By 10:22, Chris was loudly debating Maya about whether recessed lighting was “the downfall of modern architecture.” By 10:29, Danielle flagged Riley down because the espresso shot was pulling “spiritually aggressive.” At 10:31, the Wi-Fi crashed. Not a little glitch. The collective groan could’ve registered on the Richter scale. "Is it just me?" Julian asked quietly from the laptop bar, already rebooting his laptop for the third time. "Nope," Riley muttered, holding the router like a defibrillator. "We're all dying together." By noon, the Wi-Fi was miraculously back—but Riley’s nerves were shredded. Eddie breezed by again. "Also thinking—giant chalkboard wall in the lounge! 'What Are You Working On Today?' Vibes are key, Riley. Vibes are the new currency." She smiled a tight smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Sounds great, Eddie." At 1:58 p.m., the Terra Kaffe jammed mid-shot. At 2:02 p.m., Bev lost a puzzle piece and accused the universe of betrayal. At 2:10 p.m., someone microwaved leftover fish, sending a greasy wave through the space. Bev, incensed, taped a bright yellow note to the fridge: "Microwaving fish in a shared workspace is an act of violence. Please stop." Within an hour, a second note appeared underneath: "What about bacon? Asking for a friend." And another: "Define 'violence.' (Asking for my lawyer.)" Riley glanced at the fridge, sighed, and moved on. Meanwhile, a new crisis brewed: The small meeting room had become contested territory. Shay had booked it for a brainstorming sprint. They stood in the doorway, pretending to be polite, radiating passive-aggressive tension. Riley had to step in, referee-style. "Shay, you’ve got the booking. Let’s move the Zoom call to the lounge corner—and I’ll throw in an extra hour for free." Another tiny fire contained. Barely. At 4:10 p.m., Zay was still at the laptop bar—well past the 4:00 p.m. Basic membership cutoff. Still working. Still plugged into two different outlets. Still sipping the smoothie that had clearly achieved independent life. Riley approached carefully. "Hey, Zay, quick reminder: Basic access ends at four. Anything past that gets billed by the hour." Zay froze mid-sip. "Ohhh yeah, for sure. Wrapping up. Like, right now. Almost." Riley smiled tightly and headed back to the bar, resisting the urge to collapse onto the floor. By 4:25 p.m., Riley should’ve already been gone 25 minutes ago. Instead, she was wiping down counters, clearing passive-aggressive fridge notes, resetting the meeting room chairs, and wondering if "ghosting your workplace" was a real thing. She was debating whether it was worth even making another espresso when she saw it: A small folded note sitting quietly on the bar. In Bev’s familiar scrawl: "For when the Wi-Fi goes down, the coffee gives up, and humanity tests your limits. You’re doing great." No signature. No announcement. Just a little proof that someone had noticed. Riley smiled—an actual smile—and ripped open the crackers like they were salvation. Maybe coworking was messy. But it also meant you were never really facing the day alone. Next Time on The Third Place...Riley needs a break—and Downingville Square delivers. From the diner next door to the boutique she can't escape without buying something, Because sometimes the best part of working near home... Enjoying the ride? Come see what coworking is really like — kombucha, chaos, and all. Join Work2gether or schedule a tour today. The Third Place is a completely fictional story about a completely real kind of place. The characters are made up. But their situations? A little too familiar. The town is fake. But also… not really. The passive-aggressive fridge notes, the mysterious smell near the bathrooms, the guy who never stops talking, the lady without her headphones, and the printer issues? Oh, they’re very real. No actual people were harmed in the writing of this story, but if you recognize yourself… your ego may be. Welcome to Work2gether Downingville Square. See you in the next episode, or better yet... in real life. Comments are closed.
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Listen on:
Season 1
Before the Story Begins Not home.
Not the office. The space between. A fictional series about real work, shared spaces, and the small, messy ways people build community—without ever meaning to. |
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DOWNINGTOWN
107 E. Lancaster Ave |
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KENNETT SQUARE
120 E. State St |
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PHOENIXVILLE
21 Gay St |
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