For hungry minds, Octane a caffeine-fueled oasis

A student with a Pakistani scarf dangling around his neck and wild, curly, straight-from-the-cast-of-“Hair” hair walks into a coffee shop. He orders at the counter and then lugs his epic bookbag over to a small cafe table.

But does he sit? No. He hovers by the table, back bent, brow taut with furrows. He is Lost in Thought. He has just realized something important, perhaps about his semiotic analysis of “Ulysses,” or the circuitry in his nanobot.

Just then a server comes to his table with a plate of hummus. Our student makes an expression like a soap bubble popping. He is no longer Lost in Thought! He is Starving!

He drops the backpack with a thunk. Before the server can set the plate down he lifts a spear of flatbread from it, smears it through the hummus and shoves it in his mouth, eating before the food hits the table. Scoop, shove. Scoop, shove. The hummus is gone.

I watch this scene from the adjacent table, enraptured. The only other creature I’ve ever seen eat not-yet-delivered food is my cat, who likes to lick the gravy from his Fancy Feast even as I invert the can. But while my cat is all appetite, the student is all mind.

So I observe him from behind the lid of my laptop. He finally sits, plunges his hands into the mass of dark curls on his head and stares at the backpack in agony. Eventually, he pulls a laptop from the bag and cracks it open. He clicks a few buttons, cocks his head and returns to the world of thought.

We are at Octane Coffee Bar & Lounge —- a west side cafe popular with Georgia Tech students and faculty. Here, the wireless is flawless, the power strip surge protectors ample, the design aesthetic minimalist, and the coffee strong.

A few parties converse quietly, but most here sit quietly and think. If you are the kind of person who feels energy in a room, then you may tune into the edgy vibration of souls attempting mind-body disconnect. They fire up their iTunes, plug in their headphones and move their eyes from computer screen to brick wall.

Octane isn’t a joyless spot, just a purposeful one. People don’t come here to poke around on Facebook; they come to write.

Also, the coffee is really good. The staff here brews it in small, French-press batches throughout the day. They tell you what kind you’re drinking, what Sumatran estate it hails from. Or they may shake their heads and inform you that you just missed the Ethiopian Yrgacheffe.

This fine-ground coffee leaves a coating of black silt in the bottom of your mug, so when you go for a refill the staff will rinse it with hot water before serving more. This good, strong extract keeps everyone sharp, stimulated, ready to make it through one challenging mental construct to the next. To keep going, and going, and then …

Food!

Food now!

People spring up from their chairs at midday and line up at the counter. Octane serves a small menu of sandwiches, panini, salads and a daily soup. The menu has the kind of quasi-gourmet vibe that shows some care but not a lot of fuss. For instance: “Smoked turkey, peppered goat cheese, organic raspberry preserves on whole wheat bread.”

Fine. The sandwiches are the right size. Not so ample that the act of digesting them will break the mind-body disconnect. Not so skimpy that you’d need to leave your seat again for an afternoon snack. People snarf them quickly, forget about them and return to their work.

Most restaurants design menus to engage the mind. The menu at Octane knows to leave it alone.

Octane Coffee Bar & Lounge. 1009-B Marietta St., Atlanta, 404-815-9886; www.octanecoffee.com