Coffee shop’s true heart is its customers

By Scott Herhold
Mercury News

When Billy Eakes walked into the Heartbeat Cafe on Thursday morning, the regulars applauded him. After two years out of work, the ex-banker had landed a job as entertainment director of the company that runs San Jose’s Capital Club.
What made the moment remarkable wasn’t just that Eakes had snared his dream job — `wp_posts`I sent out 5,000 résumés,” he said — but that the regulars already knew it. At the Heartbeat, the word had passed the day before.

If you want the anti-Starbucks of San Jose — the word is banned inside the Heartbeat — then you need to come to this unpretentious coffee shop in Cambrian Park Plaza.
It’s a place where Don Holmes and Del Coombs, two longtime retired customers, put out the umbrellas and wipe the outside tables at 6 a.m., when cafe owner Jolanta Kobylinski opens up.
It’s a place where the regulars leave messages for one another, where they pin their frequent coffee-drinker cards (the 10th cup is free) against the wall, where customers bring Christmas presents for a couple who are sick.

Running on friendship

It’s a place that runs not on caffeine, or even the excellent tuna sandwiches and soups made by Kobylinski’s father-in-law. It operates on friendship. From Jolanta’s Polish Christmas ornaments to the upside-down coffee-mug light above the counter — snared by customer Sharon Eakes at a garage sale — the kitschy place feels like an alcove of someone’s kitchen.

`wp_posts`We come in to discuss our families, get reinforcement for doing well, or get told off,” says Cheryl Just, a regular from Willow Glen known among the insiders as `wp_posts`Sharon,” the name Jolanta sometimes bestows on her. `wp_posts`We tell each other we’re beautiful. We’re our biggest fans.”

In an age when people find friends or significant others at work — when reporters know reporters, cops know cops, engineers know engineers — the Heartbeat happily crosses lines of age, sex, politics and occupation. The place has a dozen or so regulars — and more who drop in. In the corner — his back to the wall — is Ed-the-retired-cop, who genially takes abuse and gently dishes it out. In a subtle assault on the table of women — known as `wp_posts`the Queens” — he accused them of being `wp_posts`cronies,” which sounded awfully like `wp_posts`crones.” Triumphantly, Ed consulted Webster’s and informed them with a written note that a crony was a friend or acquaintance.

The cast

Toward the front of the shop sits Arlene Dallas, who likes to keep a little bit away from the fray. On the sofa is Steve-the-high-tech guy, who jokes that he’s aping a `wp_posts`Leave it to Beaver” episode by pretending to work at home. (Neither Ed nor Steve wanted their last names used.)

Through the door floats Barbara Weiberg, who moved to Washington State’s Orcas Island five years ago but has returned to San Jose for Christmas. `wp_posts`This was my first stop,” she announced.

Almost nothing is out of bounds for the daily grist of conversation, whether it’s the way Ed takes on Betty Morrissey over local politics (she prefers social services to soccer stadiums), or how a San Jose doctor drove into the water in Alameda, or Elton John’s civil union. `wp_posts`Oh stop it, you little twit,” is a form of endearment, not abuse, at the Heartbeat.

`wp_posts`I think the spirit of Christmas is here. But it’s all year,” says Arlene Dallas. She pauses before delivering her punch line with a smile: `wp_posts`Except for some people.”

Somehow you can’t see it happening at you-know-where, where temptation looms to buy your mocha-venti and bury yourself with a laptop.

`wp_posts`This place wouldn’t exist except for these people,” says the owner, Jolanta. `wp_posts`People say, `You’re working Christmas Eve?’ I say, `Yeah, but it’s not a job. It’s friends.’ ”

Contact Scott Herhold at sherhold@mercurynews.com  or call (408) 920-5877.