Same Brew, Different Crew

When the characters on “Friends” hang out at New York’s Central Perk, they sip coffee and lounge on an antique sofa, where they trade witty comments and chat about the meaning of life.

As groups gather at L.A.’s Insomnia Cafe, they drink espresso and relax on Victorian furnishings, exchange wisecracks and ponder--well, not exactly the meaning of life, but work.

In fact, in contrast to “Friends’ ” coffeehouse waitress Rachel Green (Jennifer Aniston), Insomnia’s Matthew Mullally is so harried with customers on a recent Sunday that he can hardly get a word in.

“I know the show’s a big hit, but nobody like Courteney Cox comes in here,” he says.

This crowd, make no mistake, loves the NBC sitcom, even though few could boast of a well-furnished apartment, a seemingly unlimited clothing budget and enough free time to hang out all day at a coffeehouse.

“It’s like ‘Cheers’ for our generation,” says Benji White, 25. “It’s kind of exciting whenever you see someone who kind of vaguely represents yourself, that we are being taken seriously enough to make a show after.”

White, along with Liz Cane, Steve Little and Adele Renault, regularly hangs out at Insomnia. Each bears similarities to the artsy types found on “Friends”: Cane recently graduated from UCLA Film School; Little is a law firm file clerk; Renault is a food server; White is an aspiring screenwriter.

“On the show, the friends are the most important people,” says Cane, 32. “That’s actually pretty intriguing. It seems like these bonds take precedence over their romantic relationships. That’s what is really going on with a lot of young people these days.”

And Cane sees realism in the character of Ross (David Schwimmer), whose wife left him for another woman. In one episode, he goes to a birthing class, where he and his ex-wife’s lover spar over who will fill the “father” role.

“That’s very interesting, because roles are changing so much,” Cane says. “Who’s the mother and who’s the father and who’s the friend? All those things are becoming very fluid in society these days.”

Other than the Insomnia experience, however, this group cannot be neatly packaged into the “Friends” mold. They’re not neighbors but scattered throughout Los Angeles. They’re not all white or even in the same age range: Little, at 23, is the youngest; Renault, at 44, is changing careers after working in the exterminating business. And the group, which met at a UCLA Extension comedy class, finds time to meet just once a week and, even then, talks mostly about careers.

“We are all interested in developing our potential as comedians and writers and artists,” Cane says. “That helps. It’s a unifying bond. But it’s hard to keep a group going. There are rewards, but people are also worried about money.”

A nother group of friends at Insomnia--Matt Nix, Clark Hoover and Elisa Todd, all 23--was also dubious about the show, only to be won over.

“I really wanted to hate it because I tend to be resistant to things that are so self-consciously Generation X,” says Nix, an assistant at Turner Network Television. “But I ended up liking it in spite of myself. If it fills any void, it’s a reasonably intelligent, romantically funny show.”

Says Hoover, an administrative assistant at Coca-Cola: “I just wish my life resembled it more.”

The trio struggles to come up with connections to the characters.

“Well, I was married once, and she left me for her lesbian lover,” Nix deadpans. “I guess you don’t watch ‘Friends’ for its hard-edged realism.”

Nix and Hoover then resume their conversation, which they claim was about the “meaning of life,” a la “Friends.”

But Todd, a perfume company branch manager, blows the whistle:

“I thought you were talking about your career,” she says.

“Well, yes,” Nix says. “The meaning of my career.”