Announced
A post becomes a real event, with a capacity.
It isn't a separate app to check. It's the same storefront and the same account, one scroll further.
See how it works
The new filter roast, from the people who roasted it.
A shop has more to say than what fits on the menu — a new roast, a late pop-up, why the oven was down on Tuesday.
Drip & Bake gives them a place to say it, and gives customers a place to answer: a like, a comment, a seat at something happening in person.
A post can turn into a conversation. A conversation can turn into a ticket in someone's hand at the door.
01 / A shop talking to its regulars
Community is written by the shop, for the people who already order from it.
There's no outside content mixed in and no algorithm deciding what a customer sees instead — a post appears because the shop published it, and stays hidden until they're ready to say it.
It reads like a shop talking to its regulars, because that's exactly what it is.

02 / Their name, their photo, their voice
A customer can like a post, or leave a comment, the moment they've read it.
It shows up under their own name and their own account photo — the same one they already use everywhere else on the storefront.
A comment isn't a review left for strangers. It's a customer talking to a shop they already order from.

03 / Held to the shop's own standard
A merchant reads every comment on their own posts, and can hide one without deleting the post underneath it.
It's the shop's own space, held to the shop's own standard — not a public comment section the business doesn't control.

04 / From a post to a seat at the table
Some announcements are more than something to read.
A cupping night, a tasting, a pop-up — a shop can turn any of them into a real event, with a capacity and one or more ticket types, some free, some paid.
It lives right alongside the post that announced it, not in a separate ticketing tool a customer has to go find.
A post becomes a real event, with a capacity.
Paid through the same checkout as any order.
One credential, checked once, at the door.
A ticket is bought through the exact same checkout as an order — card, wallet balance, or Simulation Checkout while a shop is still testing.
There's no separate ticketing account to create and no second payment system to trust. If a customer already trusts checkout for coffee, they already trust it for a ticket.
A ticket becomes a QR code the moment it's paid for — nothing to print, nothing to screenshot and hope still works.
It's checked at the door by scanning it, or by looking up the name, and both ways admit the same ticket through the same rule: once it's used, it's used, from whichever door it walked through.
It sits in the customer's account under "My tickets," the same place their orders and receipts already live.

Already part of their account
Community activity and event tickets aren't a separate identity from the one a customer already uses to order.
They sit in the same account as their receipts, loyalty standing and subscriptions — one relationship, a little fuller every time they show up.
Security
Every interaction is written by a function that checks who's asking first — never a direct write from the browser, and never from an anonymous or guest session.
Comments, likes and attendees belong to the store whose post or event they're on, and nowhere else.
Unpublishing an old event never blanks the ticket of someone who already attended — what a customer holds is theirs, independent of whether the listing is still public.
Whether staff scan it or search a name, admitting a ticket runs through the one rule that decides if it's still valid — so it can't be waved through twice from two different doors.
Yours to shape.
How often you post, what you turn into an event, and what a ticket costs are entirely up to the shop.
If there's a way you'd want your community to work that isn't here yet, tell us. It grows from what shops actually ask for, not the other way around.