Were we chosen to be the anti-establishment coffee machine of NYC's East Village or did we plan it? A little of both.
Sure it was a bit of a right time, right place story, but it was also a fundamental philosophy.
See, the generic coffee monster already was. Then it was again. Directly across from each other and up the avenue down the street. Nothing but green logos and upscale prices.
Then came the orange truck and it parked directly in the middle shining like the sun. It served everybody with a smile and it had fair prices. It made the best cup of coffee in New York City and it didn't discriminate. The smokers smoked, the dogs had bones, and it played sweet soul music. And the chain was broken.
And MUD was, is and MUD will be.