Caffeine Chaos Over South Freo

Just as the first blush of dawn kissed the Indian Ocean at South Beach, not far from the South Beach Cafe, the drones emerged — a swarm of buzzing automatons weaving through the roads and laneways of South Fremantle, each clutching a paper cup – some from Paper Cup on Hampton Road – brimming with someone’s lifeline.

They danced above the sleepy streets, dodging seagulls on McLaren and Orient, skimming rooftops near Nelson, zipping through alfresco setups along South Terrace where groggy regulars, like those at Kerfuffle, waited. But efficiency had its limits.

A rogue drone clipped the side mirror of a parked van on Marine Terrace, disturbing the dazed occupants and sending a long black from Roasting Warehouse intended for old Mick sleeping off a big night outside Running With Thieves, tumbling onto his freshly washed plaid shirt from Save the Kiddies. Another skimmed too close to a flock of coffee-deprived morning walkers at Third Wheel, misreading GPS coordinates and delivering Sophie’s flat white straight into a startled retiree’s lap at Little Lefroy’s.

Chaos unfolded in the canine world. A bacon sandwich from The Conti — meant for a weary nurse post-night shift at Freo Hospital — descended like manna from heaven near Manna’s. Three border collies, a kelpie, and a particularly ambitious dachshund from Attfield Street launched skyward, jaws snapping. The kelpie – from South Street – won.

And then – Jane’s coffee.

The drone glided through the air down Gold Street, locked onto its target. It calculated trajectory, weight distribution, wind resistance. But what it didn’t calculate was the usually open backroom door that today was closed.

Thud.

The coffee splattered. The paper cup fell earthwards. The drone buzzed weakly before giving up entirely. Jane stared at the soggy wreckage, took a breath, and muttered, “Guess I’m walking to La Vespa.”