Radio Bean by Colin FitzgeraldI get off the mount and rest my eyes on the little gem of a coffee bar before me. I lean the bike on a tree and make my way past the propped door. This is the Radio Bean?...after all these years. The room whispers sweet nothings to my worn and vulnerable body. I want to refuse the sweetness and storm off to a sleazy bar, but I deal and take a seat. Haunting sounds from a quiet pianist tune me out of the subtle conversations about the booths and slate tables. I laugh to myself seeing everyone twist and point at the dangling robot paintings. I order an iced chai and wait for Mr. James Kolchalka to tweak his guitar and sing about monkeys and robots.