By Thursday morning Maplewood had split cleanly down the middle, like a sheet of plywood cracked by a sledgehammer. On one side stood Mayor Hargrove and his newly formed “Caffeine Enforcement Unit”—four part-time deputies, two retired crossing guards, and a retired librarian who’d volunteered because “someone has to protect the children from jittery adults.” They patrolled in golf carts borrowed from the country club, armed with flashlights, clipboards, and the unshakable conviction that a town without coffee was a town of moral fiber.
