La La Land — Restaurant in Austin

I am not an influencer nor do I care about trendy stuff or what kind of matcha it is. I actually don't even like matcha. So this review is strictly on quality of food and drink vs the price. At first I wasn't impressed by the prices. There are more expensive places on the street true but $6-$8 for a latte seems a bit high. However, the quality is really there. Normally I say a $7 latte would be a once a month treat but honestly this could be a weekly stop. The staff are nice, accommodating, and helpful. They do scream "I love you" a lot which I wasn't prepared for but started to enjoy by the time we left. The "Dream Toast" was really a dream. The bread was THICC! The chili flakes are unmatched. Spicy and crunchy with just a touch of sweetness to cool that burn. The toppings were a mile high! It really justified the price. In fact, I'd wager it's just a bit too much toppings... If that's even a thing! We waited a normal amount of time for our order considering we ordered food and drinks. The price is still not a daily cafe for me so I would rate them as a 4.5/5. However, they get a .5 star back for how dog friendly they are. My dog is an embarrassment in public. He's so excited and cries at everyone because he wants pets. While he was having one of his better days the staff and other dog owners were really patient as I worked with him to calm him down. They recognized I was trying and he did eventually after about 10-minutes settle down. Other owners walked on the other side of the table from us which really helped. He even made a new friend and has a pup date next week! Also he was a big fan of the banana pup cup!!

I will definitely be back with my other Satan Spawn to see how she does in public. If for nothing else the lattes will reduce my anxiety about my...

Standing in line at La La Land Kind Coffee is less a consumer choice and more a public confession: I have nothing interesting about me, but I own a phone.

This isn’t a coffee shop, it’s a personality laundromat where people come to rinse out whatever shred of individuality they might have had and replace it with the universally recognized symbol for “I am desperate for you to think I’m fun.” The line itself is a catwalk for curated mediocrity—people rehearsing their casual laughs, adjusting their thrifted-but-not-really outfits, pretending they don’t notice how badly they’re sweating through their pastel linen because aesthetic suffering is the currency here.

The drink? An afterthought. An overpriced sugar slurry in a plastic chalice thick enough to survive the collapse of civilization. You won’t remember the taste in ten minutes, but you will remember the exact angle you held it for your photo. Because the truth is, this isn’t about coffee—it’s about staging a version of your life where you look like the main character. The kind of life where you wake up effortlessly beautiful, where your friends are always laughing in slow motion, where the lighting is golden and flattering and nothing hurts.

Except it’s not golden hour—it’s noon in Texas, your skin is sizzling like fajita meat, and the only thing golden is the branding you’re paying a premium to advertise for free. Deep down you know this. You feel the hollowness in the moment right after you hit “post,” the one you immediately smother with more scrolling, more likes, more noise.

La La Land isn’t a coffee shop. It’s a mirror. And if you look long enough, you might realize the thing you’re trying to photograph away...

I took my kids today to the Austin location for the LaLa Land with Mickey Mouse collaboration, we waited in the high 90’s heat, and we got told once we got to the door that they sold out of toast and refused to sell anymore Mickey Mouse meals. An employee snuck out and took the advertisement sign down for the event and then a girl went around out in a black cape and quietly (and very very quickly) told people they were out of food. I went to the girl at the door and asked what that girl said because no one could hear her.

The girl at the door told us that because they sold out of all toast then they wouldn’t sell the Mickey Mouse meal. I asked if we bought a pastry (anything to be added to the meal so my kids could still experience the event) and the manager (a younger guy with dark hair) said he “wouldn’t do that”. Not that he couldn’t. If he said that he couldn’t do it because it was policy then I would understand. But that’s not how to responded and he was snippy.

Almost everyone behind us was there for the event and no one knew that that location was out of toast and wouldn’t accommodate in any way. I just wish the employees wouldn’t try to be sneaky and hide that they wouldn’t sell anymore items for the events. My little kids cried because we went to that location just for that. We probably won’t come back, especially after the behavior of the manager and the sneakiness of the employees, and the unwillingness to work with...