At the ground floor of my former office was a cafe. It wasn't an old, established cultural icon like my local dumping spot, but it employed people who provided

At the ground floor of my former office was a cafe. It wasn't an old, established cultural icon like my local dumping spot, but it employed people who provided their goods and services. That was one year ago. It's been vacant since the rent was raised. I work in a new building now, but I walk past the former store most days of the week. Through the wall of glass I could see people engage in their activities under the glow of a cliche Edison lightbulb arrangement. I would walk past and see the adjustments of aprons, the exchanges of cash and mugs of coffee, the hats and t-shirts hanging off slabs of wood pinned to the walls, and the sacks of coffee beans stored on top. A dark and empty room sits behind the facade of LEDs that now occupy the glass. Advertisement. I think you are conflating gentrification with access. My city has more people and a better public transportation system now. More people have access to the sidewalk in front of my old office where you could once purchase a decent cup of coffee. But what used to be a store, a small seedling of human existence, is now just a wall to display ads on.