Like many who work remotely, I spend a lot of time in coffee shops. In fact, I’m sitting in one right now — Coffee Madness (coffeemadnesslvnv.com), in Silverado Ranch — typing this as my 5-year-old eats fruit snacks and picks through a pack of board game cards.
Growing up, many of my favorite TV characters were regulars in neighborhood spots where everyone knew their name, and I assumed my adulthood would be similar. But that hasn’t happened. My friends and I don’t have a favorite coffeehouse with an orange tufted couch, and no one ever asks if I’ll be ordering the usual. I have yet to find my third place.
Sociologist Ray Oldenburg coined the term “third place” in 1989 to describe spots that aren’t your home (first place) or work (second), but a third location, where you socialize and hang out, either for free or for the price of a cheap drink or membership.
Traditionally, that’s meant coffee shops or taverns. For centuries, men in wigs and robes would meet there to debate politics or hash out business ideas. Today, third places encompass a wider range of public and private spaces — from dog parks to, for some, the local gym. So, what makes a third place fit, and where can you find one in Southern Nevada?
What Makes a Good Third Place?
Victoria Hart, artist and owner of Pink Kitty Creative, says it has to be chill enough to make people want to linger. “Being an artist, I like artsy places,” she says. “I like The Writer’s Block (thewritersblock.org), because it’s got a really comfortable vibe.”
Wayne Schulatz, co-owner of Meepleville Board Game Cafe (meepleville.com), believes open-mindedness is an important element. He strives to offer a “safe and welcoming establishment where people can be themselves.”
Clay Paper Ink (claypaperink.com) owner Melinda Stender thinks a good third place is a nondenominational, “even” space that focuses on bringing people together around a “cool activity.”
Why Aren’t There More?
Whatever makes a good one, there aren’t enough of them, says Jesse Merrick, City Cast Las Vegas host. “I feel like Vegas is so unique because everything is centered on the Strip,” Merrick says. “The real hub of our city isn’t built for locals to walk around and work out of. We’re missing a true city center.”
“Other cities have a square or a fountain that people can go to that we don’t have,” says Dan Kalny, a Chicago transplant and the co-owner of the cafe Pedal & Pour (pedalpour.com).
Stender’s struggle has been that typical third-place patrons are spread out. While she hopes to use her art café and studio to nurture the city’s creative community, that’s been a struggle so far, she says. “Las Vegas is a little odd (compared to other cities). The artists are very independent of each other.”
Do Your Part!
As I leave the café, I smile my thanks to the barista but don’t say anything. Despite coming here every week for months, I’ve never spoken more than a handful of words to anyone, opting instead to sit on the scuffed leather sofa with my headphones on, the international sign for “do not disturb.”
Clearly, one reason I have yet to settle into a third place like the ones I idolized on TV is that I’ve never given any of them a real chance. The baristas and bartenders may not know my name, but I don’t know theirs, either.
“You have to get out in the world and socialize,” advises Hart, who regularly makes the effort. “I think that’s something we’re really losing touch with. Human connection is so important. Third spaces provide an opportunity to connect.”
