RACHELLE ABELLAR
From the outside, Wayward Coffeehouse looks like your standard cafe: a few tables, a smattering of chairs. After entering, you come to a few realizations. Mostly that it’s bigger on the inside.
I didn’t fully understand why so many people had told me that I would love Wayward until I pushed open the door. The inner geek in me—something that’s always there but lies dormant unless stimulated by memorabilia or a tasteful graphic tee—flared to life.
