Hot Chick-a-Latté offers exactly what you think it does

Every once in a while there comes a product that is so utterly baffling, you can’t help but step back and think, “Wow. I can’t believe they actually invented that." The Snuggie is a perfect example. If your friend had told you he was going to invent a product that combined hoodies, blankets, and chronic obesity, you would have laughed in his face. But then the commercial for the Snuggie came out on late-night television, and you laughed in the commercial’s face instead. But the commercial couldn’t hear you, and then a few of your friends bought Snuggies ironically. Then that irony faded, and the Snuggie simply was, and everyone involved became too indifferent to be sad.

This is how The Rock continues to flex his pecks on celluloid, and something tells us it’s also the driving force that will probably sustain East Colfax’s newest peddler of what-the-fuckery, Hot Chick-a-Latté (4736 E. Colfax Ave.). At first it will baffle; over time it will just be.

You can check your preconceived notions of cute Starbucks baristas at the drive-through window—Hot Chick-a-Latté employs lingerie-clad shorties, fresh flesh on daily display, to serve up your coffee. The girls preen and posture for tips as they prep your morning fix, winking and smiling for men who are hungry for far more than just a cup of joe.

“People keep driving through asking for chicken wings,” a tall, skinny blonde complained on a recent sunny Tuesday.

Seems that Hot Chick-a-Latte—housed in one of those notorious Colfax revolving-door storefronts that at various points has been a Der Wienerschnitzel, a Chinese restaurant, a pizza joint, and most recently, a chicken wing shack—just can’t shake its past with tits and ass. “They seem really disappointed when we tell them we don’t serve chicken wings here anymore,” the tall blonde continues before inexplicably adding that Sublime is the shit.

But those confused men still always seem to find a little money to leave in the tip jar, even if they are leaving with a signature Morning Wood served in a B, C, or D-sized cup—get it?—rather than a hot box of chicken wings. Even so, what are the chances that Hot Chick will actually outlast its predecessors?

The location in a former chicken-wing shack on a lackluster stretch of Colfax is an odd one indeed, but in Seattle—where the concept began under the moniker Bikini Baristas—the idea has proven successful. A Google search yields dozens of decent reviews from Northwestern publications and satisfied Yelpers, though it also yields accusations of prostitution by baristas charging extra for a quick feel. And a story where a man flashed his stirring rod at a barista in a bikini so she doused him with scalding hot coffee. Maybe the East Colfax locale makes a lot of sense after all.