Groovy Gathering
There’s a place tucked into Geist humming quietly with something good — a place where they want to know your name, where the syrup is homemade and a little bit magical, and where the answer, almost always, is yes.
They call it The Groovy Café, but don’t let the name fool you. It’s not about the aesthetic, though it is undeniably groovy. It’s about people. It’s about the kind of place you walk into for a latte and somehow stay for a conversation, a crossword puzzle, a second cup, a third.
A place where the fireplace hums low and the chairs — rescued from antique shops and second chances — seem to say, sit, stay awhile, you’re safe here.
Lisamarie Stonebraker, owner and longtime community member, is usually there. Not behind the scenes. Not in an office. Right there with her hands in the work, eyes on the door, heart open.
She doesn’t run a café so much as she hosts a living room for the community.
“We’re not in the no business,” she’ll tell you. “We’re in the yes business.”
And she means it.
You don’t just order here. You build.
A sandwich becomes your sandwich — layered to your liking, shaped around your needs, vegan or vegetarian or something entirely your own.
A latte becomes a small act of art: banana bread syrup with candied nuts, a bananas Foster dream spun into foam and warmth.
Ice cream isn’t just ice cream — it’s swirl and sparkle, turned into floats, milkshakes and Dole whips that feel like summer remembered.
Everything is a little more alive here. And then there are the people.
Regulars who drift in like clockwork, not for caffeine, but for connection. High schoolers who got their first jobs here and stayed, growing up in the glow of espresso machines and encouragement. Book clubs tucked into cozy corners. Writers scribbling scenes. Friends who came for coffee and found each other again.
No televisions. No noise. Just voices. Laughter. The soft turning of pages.
It feels, somehow, like something we lost — and then found again. Lisamarie knows it too.
She’s from Geist. From the lake. From the kind of life where community is a given.
And now, she’s rebuilding it here, one cup at a time.
She tells a story — quietly, like it’s just another Tuesday — about a boy on a bicycle.
He rode up as she was locking the door, closing shop for the day.
“I came for ice cream,” he said.
So, she unlocked the door, let him in, scooped exactly what he wanted and refused his money.
Still, he opened his pockets, dropped his money into the tip jar and rode away.
“It never gets old,” she says. “Seeing the good in people and being part of it.”
That’s the thing about this place It’s not just a café.
It’s a yes to the small moments. A yes to kindness. A yes to staying a little longer, talking a little more, remembering how to be human together.
Even dogs are welcome to sit with their humans on the patio, tails thumping. Dog treats are sold, and the proceeds go back out into the community to local shelters.
Everything loops back. Everything gives. And maybe that’s the real story.
In a world that rushes and scrolls and forgets to look up, there’s a groovy little café in Geist where someone will meet your eyes, make something just for you and remind you — you still belong somewhere.
When you go, don’t rush. Order something unexpected. Sit in the chair that doesn’t match. Stay long enough for a second conversation.
Lisamarie will be there.
And most likely, whatever you ask for, she’ll say yes.
