You can make the best coffee in the world, but if you put your shop in the wrong spot, no one will care.

When we started Compass Coffee, I didn’t have a grand real estate strategy. No spreadsheets, no market research, no fancy brokers walking us through “high-potential locations.” Just myself, a lot of coffee, and a whole lot of walking.

Every morning, we’d make a French press, head out the door, and roam through different neighborhoods—shirtless, of course, because vitamin D is important—trying to figure out where Compass should exist. We had no money, no experience, and no clue what we were looking for—but we did have a feeling that we could spot something special if we just paid attention.

And somehow, that actually worked.

1535 7th Street: The Laundromat That Sold Drugs

One day, we were walking down 7th Street—shirtless, because Vitamin D is important—and I saw a For Rent banner on this old laundromat. I called the number. The broker picked up.

“Hey,” I said. “I’m thinking about opening a coffee shop. Can I see the space?”

That’s how we found 1535 7th Street.

Now, if you had walked by this building in 2013, your first thought would not have been, “Wow, this place has potential.” It was, in every possible way, a disaster.

The place was a front for all kinds of hustles. There was an unspoken system: you’d walk in, put cash in a washing machine, then be directed to a specific dryer where your drugs were waiting. Efficient, honestly. Borderline impressive.

Outside, there was a whole cast of characters. Guys shooting dice. Guys selling detergent. Guys just standing around, because standing around was the whole economy of that block at the time.

And yet, standing in front of this absolute mess of a laundromat, I thought, This is it. This is the place

Why?

Because if you grew up in D.C. like I did, you knew how neighborhoods changed. I’d watched the cycle spread east for years—Georgetown, Dupont Circle, Logan Circle. The dive bars turned into cocktail bars. The pawn shops became high-end home goods shops. The suit stores—the ones that were definitely fronts for money laundering—became high-end boutiques selling $300 cashmere sweaters. And once the yoga studios and Whole Foods moved in, boom, the neighborhood had “arrived.”

Shaw was next. You could see the signs everywhere—new apartment buildings going up on 14th Street, massive cranes creeping east, developers filing permits left and right. A brand-new Giant grocery store had just opened a few blocks away. Investors had done the math and decided this neighborhood was worth betting on.

It was just a matter of time. And if we could survive long enough, we’d be in the perfect spot.

So we signed the lease.

People thought we were insane.

And, to be fair, they weren’t wrong.

But the gamble paid off. People came. Even when the block was still rough, they came. Then Dacha Beer Garden opened across the street. Then new businesses started popping up. The neighborhood changed. The cafe thrived.

One of our first lessons, if you see the wave coming early enough, you can ride it.

Cafe #2: The Wrong Side of the Street (Literally)

We still didn’t know much about real estate. But when a big-name D.C. developer approached us, we figured he did.

“We’re building the next Abbot Kinney,” he told us. 

If you’ve never been to L.A., Abbot Kinney is the spot—Venice Beach’s trendiest street, packed with buzzy restaurants, hip brands, and influencers pretending to drink oat milk lattes while renting dogs for Instagram photos.

We were in. Then he told us where we’d be.

“We want Compass to be right in the heart of it,” he said. “We want you in the middle of the project. You’ll be the draw. People will come for coffee and discover everything else along the way.”

It sounded logical. It was a very important real estate guy telling us this, after all.

So we trusted him.

Turns out, it was a terrible idea.

People do not wander for coffee. They are not explorers at 7:30 in the morning. They want convenience. The shortest possible path between bed, caffeine, and work. Starbucks figured this out decades ago—that’s why they put stores on corners.

But we said yes. And it sucked. The cafe survived, but it wasn’t thriving like our first one.

Another valuable lesson: Don’t be cute with coffee shop locations. Be where people already are.

Cafe #3: Foot Traffic is Everything

By the time we opened our third cafe, we were thinking differently.

We picked a spot directly across from the Capital One Arena in Chinatown, right by the Metro, in a high-rise office building with a lobby entrance.

Suddenly, instead of hoping people would find us, we were getting thousands of customers walking past every single day.

Wild concept.

Turns out, if you put a cafe in a high-traffic area, people will find you. They’ll stop in on their way to work, they’ll make it part of their daily routine, and before you know it, you’ve become the neighborhood’s go-to spot.

Who would have thought? Foot traffic is king.

Different Cafes for Different People

By the time we opened a few more cafes, we started seeing a pattern.

Site selection wasn’t just about where a cafe went. It was about who the cafe was for.

We weren’t just opening coffee shops—we were designing them for different types of people, with different needs, at different times of the day. Early on, we thought good coffee was enough to make a location work. We figured people would go out of their way for it.  And while that’s somewhat true, it turns out that accessibility makes all the difference.

So we started calculating and adjusting.

Downtown: Speed & Efficiency (And a Surprise Twist)

Downtown customers may be in a hurry, but that doesn’t mean they don’t want an experience—they just want the right kind of experience.

That’s why at 18th & I, we built a classic Italian espresso bar. No seats. No couches. Just a standing table in the middle. Two blocks from the World Bank and IMF, our regulars—European diplomats, economists, finance professionals—weren’t here for caramel lattes and a chat. They wanted espresso. They wanted it now. A quick shot, then out the door.

Neighborhoods: Built for Convenience, Designed for Community

At Spring Valley, we weren’t serving downtown commuters in a rush—we were serving families, retirees, and students with completely different routines. The tiny Starbucks down the street had no seating, just a place to grab a drink and leave. But we knew people here wanted somewhere to stay—without sacrificing speed.

Ballston: The Long Bet That Paid Off

One of our boldest bets was Ballston.

Back in 2015, Ballston was a ghost town—a dead mall with empty storefronts, outdated décor, and no real reason to go there unless you desperately needed a smoothie from Smoothie King. There was a movie theater, an ice-skating rink, and a few scattered shops, but it felt like a place stuck in time, waiting for something to happen.

But the landlords had a vision. They didn’t just tell us Ballston was going to change—they showed us. They had a physical scale model of their redevelopment plans, complete with gleaming high-rises, packed sidewalks, and a thriving new retail district.

It reminded me of Shaw in 2013—not there yet, but you could see where it was going. The cranes were up. The permits were filed. It was only a matter of time.

So we signed the lease.

And now? Ballston is one of the busiest neighborhoods in D.C. Young professionals, fitness-obsessed locals, and high-density apartments—exactly the crowd we expected.

The crazy part? Even with how busy our first Ballston cafe was, we realized we were still missing a huge part of the neighborhood—so we opened a second one, just a block away.

Why open another cafe so close you may ask? Because even a single block can mean a completely different flow of people.

Our first Ballston cafe was on the main strip, next to the new Ballston Quarter development—a high-energy spot where people were moving fast. But we started noticing something: there was an entire wave of customers we were missing.

A few blocks away, 4300 Wilson Blvd had a completely different rhythm—residents who lived on that side of Ballston, office workers with a separate commute pattern, and people who rarely, if ever, walked past our first cafe.

We realized this by listening to customers. People kept telling us, “I love Compass, but I never go that way.” That’s when it clicked—Ballston wasn’t one neighborhood. It was several communities packed into a few blocks. A few blocks that can meet the difference between steady foot traffic and being invisible to an entire customer base. By watching traffic patterns, listening to customers, and paying attention to movement, we were able to double down in Ballston—not by repeating ourselves, but by creating another cafe that met a different need.

From Gut Instinct to Data-Driven Strategy

In the early days, picking cafe locations was pure gut instinct. We’d walk a neighborhood, feel the vibe, and think, Yeah, this seems like the kind of place where people would want a great cup of coffee.

That worked—sometimes. But gut feelings don’t tell you how many cars drive past at 7 AM, or whether your drive-thru is going to back up into the street and turn your morning rush into a traffic jam.

So we got smarter.

Now, before we sign a lease, we break down the real numbers behind a location. We track how many people actually walk past the door each morning, not just whether a street feels busy. We watch how commuters move—which side of the street they’re on, which way they turn, whether they’ll stop for coffee or just keep going. If it’s a drive-thru, we count how many cars can fit in the line before traffic backs up, because if people see a clogged lane, they won’t even bother pulling in.

We also look at the neighbors. A gym or yoga studio? Perfect—those customers are wired for coffee. A grocery store? Great for midday traffic. A nightclub that doesn’t open until 10 PM? Not exactly helping the morning rush.

And yet, even with all the data, every location is a living thing. People’s routines change. Neighborhoods shift. What works today might need a tweak tomorrow. That’s why the best strategy isn’t just about picking the right spot—it’s about constantly paying attention.

The Future of Compass

Retail is changing faster than ever. Amazon is transforming the buyer experience. Malls are closing. The way people live, work, and commute is evolving. What made a location perfect five years ago might not work five years from now.

So we adapt. And we never get complacent.

We know that downtown cafes need to be fast, efficient, and right in the flow of foot traffic.
We know that neighborhood cafes need space for people to gather, work, and connect.
We know that suburban cafes need parking, drive-thrus, and seamless access for customers on the go.

And after 23 cafes? We still don’t have it all figured out. But we’re better at paying attention, adjusting, and staying ahead of the curve.

Because at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter how good your coffee is if people can’t—or won’t—get to it.

Real estate is everything. And sometimes, you don’t know you’ve made the right bet until years later.

Just ask the guys who built a laundromat-turned-drug-front on 7th Street.

They thought they had the perfect business model.

They just didn’t see Compass Coffee coming.