PORTLAND, Ore. — A popular inner-Portland coffee shop announced this week that it will no longer serve customers who cannot clearly articulate something they actively hate, citing a “longstanding cultural mismatch” with people who appear content, neutral, or emotionally well-regulated.
The policy, posted on a reclaimed barn-wood sign near the register, reads simply: “No hate, no latte.”
According to staff, the decision came after months of confusion caused by customers who entered the shop without visible resentment toward at least one institution, social trend, or abstract concept.
“We realized the vibes were off,” said barista Rowan, 26, who asked to be identified only by their first name and pronouns, which were written in chalk on their apron. “Someone came in last week and said they were ‘doing pretty good, actually.’ That’s not something we’re trained to handle.”
Under the new policy, customers must declare at least one thing they despise before ordering. Acceptable answers include—but are not limited to—capitalism, cars, landlords, podcasts, men named Dave, former versions of themselves, or Portland “selling out.”
Management says the rule is not meant to exclude anyone, but rather to “protect the emotional ecosystem” of the café.
“This is a safe space,” said the shop’s manager, who goes by Sage and has never used a résumé. “And safety requires shared outrage. If you don’t hate anything, it creates an imbalance. People start smiling. Eye contact happens. It gets weird.”
Employees confirmed that customers are gently prompted at the counter with questions such as “What are we mad about today?” or “Do you still hate brunch, or has that evolved?” before their order can be taken.
Those unable to answer are offered a laminated list of “starter hates” to choose from.
“We’re not monsters,” Rowan explained. “If someone’s new to Portland, we’ll walk them through it. Housing prices are a great entry-level hate. Eventually they work their way up to abstract disappointment.”
One longtime customer praised the move, saying it finally formalizes what Portland coffee culture has always been about.
“I don’t even like coffee,” said local resident Miles, sipping an oat-milk-based drink that tasted faintly of regret. “I just come here to stay mad with other people. It’s community.”
Others were less enthusiastic.
“I just wanted a drip coffee,” said a visibly shaken man who declined to state his age but admitted he recently moved from the Midwest. “They asked me what I hated and I said… nothing? I mean, traffic sometimes? They told me to ‘sit with that’ and come back when I was ready.”
The man was later seen across the street drinking gas-station coffee and staring blankly into the distance.
The shop has already begun enforcing the policy, reportedly turning away multiple customers for expressing dangerous levels of contentment. One individual was denied service after admitting they had recently gone to therapy and felt “more balanced.”
“That’s a hard no,” Sage said. “We’re not equipped for healing.”
To ensure consistency, staff members attend weekly meetings where they calibrate acceptable levels of disdain and update a shared spreadsheet titled “Current Things We’re Furious About.” Recent additions include electric scooters, people who say “folks,” and anyone who claps when a plane lands.
The café is also rolling out a new loyalty program. After ten drinks, customers receive a free mug emblazoned with the phrase “Still Mad, Still Hydrated.”
Despite criticism, the shop insists the policy aligns with Portland values and reflects the emotional reality of the city.
“This isn’t about exclusion,” Rowan said while aggressively tamping espresso. “It’s about authenticity. Portland isn’t a place where you come to be happy. It’s a place where you come to be right.”
At press time, the café was reportedly considering expanding the policy to include a minimum sigh requirement and a ban on customers who say, “I see both sides.”
