This morning I plugged in Baby, pulled over my favorite style of chair, and sank contentedly into it. I’m so much happier here where the furniture doesn’t match; I hear English, Spanish and toddler talk; and I can watch a foursome of young professionals grab soy laced beverages and chattily return to their “green” Mercedes carpool.

Would I be able to select a chair in the new coworking space? Well, first of all it wouldn’t be necessary because the furniture matches, but the more important negative is that I wouldn’t feel free to move things around. While I agree with Stutzman that the space is professional looking, I had the feeling right from the start that I wouldn’t be encouraged to hang my little poster and opted to display it on my rented desk instead.

Yes, it was partially new kid deference to smoothly painted walls and first-hand furniture that directed my behavior, but also the parallel mention of a password protected space for coworkers to blog, pending administrative approval of the content, as well as other chilly signals.

I’m new to coworking, excited about examining starfish enterprises, and years from my days in a corporate mandated cell; however, I don’t think my naiveté has crippled my well practiced consumer intuition enough to deny something is wrong here. And don’t blame it on wobbly-legged entrepreneurship, because if someone is really into community building and “viral marketing,” they instinctively won’t begin with an imperial attitude.

Perhaps it’s the mentality of an artist shaping a creation, his or her vision, but if so, how are other creative people making welcoming, successful coworking spaces? What does planning “funky” achieve besides another Rockola cafe? I didn’t realize I was signing up for a franchise opportunity.