Medici is a classic coffee shop in all the unshaven, beret-wearing glory. The local angelheaded hipsters (catch that poetical reference?) congregate here (I'm currently on the second floor overlooking the constant street of Guadalupe) to do homework, chat, Facebook, be seen, and occasionally drink delicious espresso-charged beverages. The ubiquitous mix of hip college girls wearing scarves and TOMS shoes, headphoned 20-something guys with goatees, and the older crowd of professors' wives killing time and reading the paper gives this 2-floored, brick-walled cup of java a friendly jingle of collaborative discussion, cups and silverware clicks, personable rushes of drink preparation, and baristas calling out for the drinks they've just prepared.
The urgency of the homework-workers mixes well with the careless discussion of recent news. ("Did you know Obama won the Nobel Peace Prize? What do you think?" and other such semi-informed discourse)

Why yes, reader, I can insert images! (Though I am unsure if they will transfer to Facebook. Never tried.)
Of course, I would love this place nearly so much if the coffee sucked. Which is why it is fortunate for Cafe Medici that their concoctions (call them philters) are wonderful. Among the best I've ever had, truly. They pride themselves on their so-called espresso art, something I cannot help but be tickled by. (...something by which I cannot help but be tickled, for the grammarian in me and the pedants out there.)

As you can see, this is a picture in a cappuccino (my leisure drink of choice) drawn in the foam (formal:, crema) and which can function at once as a sign of acute professionalism and as a marketing tool. It really is nice to see, all snide aside (rhyme), at a consumer's price (like $3.50 or something like that). It's generally reserved for people who, like me, have an ungodly love of caffeine.
I'd like to, for a moment, comment on the soundtrack of this place. It seems to change eclectically from day to day, and today it is graciously set to some blues/jazz playlist, which I believe is the perfect complement of the brick-clad atmosphere of dynamic lighting and wooden bookshelves. Other days, it has been wacky indie or industrial light dance. I've yet to see a pattern, which I suppose is a good thing. Just more jazz, please, maestro spinner of disks.
One last note. The furniture here is... For lack of better (more accurate) terminology, interesting. The chairs (admittedly only comfortable for the first couple of hours) seem to be welded from very low-grade, almost salvage, aluminum. Same for the tables, save the glass tops. But, the spirit of this coffee shop is still in the forefront: you won't find similar chairs anywhere else.
I hope I've given a fair description to this interesting (there's the vagueness again!) place. I do love to sit here and do homework, read, people-watch, car-watch, weather-watch, coffee-drink, and blog-write, and I hope that other residents of Austin will check it out if they haven't done so already. I know the coffee-and-book environment isn't everyone's cup of tea (or coffee, I suppose) but it seems the University is almost solely inhabited by drinkers of said tea.
Here's a picture of my office, complete with actual homework and shoddy penmanship:

Brooks G. Eakin