When was the last time you went into a coffee shop and just, you know, drank coffee?
Maybe chatted with a friend, or watched the world go by the window. When you weren’t on your phone, or catching up on emails. When there wasn’t someone at the table opposite tapping feverishly into their MacBook. Chances are that was me, and for that I apologise. At least I’m not (and never will be) that guy in the corner talking loudly on a Zoom call.
I’m not sure when we all decided that restaurants and coffee shops were also de facto offices. That by virtue of buying a R38 coffee, we had now paid rent for two hours (maybe more) of remote work using someone else’s water and Wi-Fi to do business or hold meetings. But, somehow, imperceptibly, it happened. And I’m not altogether sure I like it.
Should cafés be quiet corners for remote work and Zoom calls, or buzzing hubs for conversation and connection? So when a friend told me about a polite little note at Our Local in Sea Point, I had to head down for a look.
“We are a small community space and are about people connecting, so unforch no laptops allowed. Like not even for a cheeky email :)”
For Michael Carter, Creative Director/Owner of Our Local, the decision to limit laptop use wasn’t about being anti-tech or making things difficult for patrons; it was about preserving the essence of the café.
“At our Sea Point store, which is much smaller [than the original Our Local in Kloof Street], we have a no-laptops-at-all policy,” says Carter. “The size of the space was really the deciding factor: we simply can’t create the kind of warm, relaxed environment we’re known for if it turns into a mini co-working hub.”
So instead of leaving it to the (always friendly) waiters and baristas to police, Walker went with the polite notice on the tables and menu.
“Our Local is about switching off, connecting, and taking a proper break,” he adds. “When half the room feels like a call centre or gaming room, it’s hard to feel like you’re getting that escape. The vibe shifts – and not in a good way. People also will take calls on Teams and spread out files – it really can become quite comical.”
At the original Our Local in Kloof Street, the larger space has allowed Carter to be a little more flexible, with designated ‘laptop zones’ in the backroom and bar as a compromise that caters to remote workers without disrupting the café experience.
It’s a fair compromise, but still the policy has sparked mixed reactions.
“Some people totally get it and even thank us for keeping the space human,” says Carter. “Others don’t love it, and our staff do sometimes bear the brunt of that. But we’ve found it’s something worth standing behind.”
Besides chattering Zoom calls and extended meetings ruining the vibe of the space, cafés transforming into remote work hubs – just without, y’know, that rent payable each month – also hits owners where it hurts: the bottom line.
“Guests sitting with laptops for hours can affect table turnover, and that directly impacts our team, especially waiters who rely on tips to earn a living,” adds Carter. “Our business supports real people with families, so this matters to us.”
While some remote workers may bristle at the idea of a ‘no devices’ zone, Carter certainly isn’t suggesting a citywide crackdown.
“We’re not saying every café or restaurant should follow suit — each space is different. But we do think more places should feel confident drawing the line where it makes sense for them. A restaurant isn’t automatically a co-working space, and it’s okay to say so.”
In a world where digital burnout is real and meaningful connection is rarer than a flat white, perhaps introducing a few limits on laptops is no bad thing. After all, sometimes the very best ideas are sparked over coffee and conversations, not spreadsheets.
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Need a remote office? Here's our guide to the Best Co-Working Spaces in Cape Town.