There is a stack of college notebooks in Sabrina Kaylor's house filled with coffee shops that never got built, and to understand the one she did build, you have to go back to those pages. She is the woman whose videos your daughter sends you and your mother-in-law recognizes on sight, but none of that existed yet. A younger generation found her first. She posts a lot that most owners hide, the hard months, the harder calls, and does not stand down her language for anybody. That is why she is trusted.
For Sabrina, coffee started in middle school, after talking her mother into stopping on the way to school she walked into class carrying her cup like an accessory. By senior year, she was showing up late with coffee for her first period teacher, a peace offering accepted on the condition that next time it comes with only two sugars.
Her nights belonged to a Dunkin that never closed, where she and her friends sat outside and talked about the lives they were going to have someday. Sabrina studied business in Florida when the notebooks started, she filled them with her plans for a coffee shop built inside shipping containers keeping them small and customer service forward. This is close to a description of what she owns today. She also met her husband Mike there, graduated in 2015 in marketing and sales, but found nothing exciting about the future spent recruiting or selling payroll.
When Mike's family drew them to Georgia she went willingly, and the two of them landed in Kennesaw working in restaurants. In her free time, she painted, almost by accident, because she was bartending and serving others, she had the uneasy feeling that she was working toward helping build other people's businesses and their dreams, not hers.
So, Sabrina dug out a bag of hardened acrylics left over from high school, started making things at the dining room table, and fell into it the way people do when they find the thing that bends time. When she and Mike rented a house with a spare room, that became a studio. Her first sale hung in a Marietta coffee shop and sold for a hundred dollars.
From there came the farmers markets, the art markets and Yellow Daisy, with Mike hauling canvases in and out of the car and working at the booth on weekends. Then 2020 shut it all down. Sabrina had already partnered with a roaster, designed a brand, and integrated her artwork into the plan and she wasn't about to spend her savings on bags and labels while the world was closed. So, she and Mike set up a Facebook Live in their living room instead. Mike called out lot numbers while she painted, and they sold thirty pieces of art in a single evening, more than she had ever managed to sell at one time.
The business was registered in June, and when a friend told her the Canton farmers market had reopened without a coffee vendor, Bizarre Coffee showed up including her paintings on the bags. Sabrina and Mike were both working other jobs, pouring cups on weekends, and the farmers market outsold every art market they had ever done. Sabrina designed the brand herself in small quiet hours, the way she still does, pulling the logo from one of her own paintings of an eye, a subject she had returned to for years because the "eyes" had always sold.
Bizarre was the word that would not box her in. She had watched other small businesses paint themselves into a corner with a name, and refused to become a Cherokee county coffee company tied to one map. Daymaker came earlier, printed on the first bags before there was a counter, but friends warned her that asking, "How can I make your day?" was too clunky for a register checkout. She kept it, knowing the question assumes its answer. Good Mood Juice came later, arriving on one of those late nights in a flash she knew to trust and both terms carry trademarks now. Bizarre opened first on East Marietta Street in December 2020, in one hundred square feet, employing two people and then three by February. A Canton city councilman walked in that month and bought multiple gift cards from a business barely open, and the community that followed gave them room to grow and learn. Their videos started traveling, and somebody's cousin in New York would send a clip back home, which is how strangers began walking in asking for a drink they had only seen on a screen.
They gutted and rebuilt Canton a year and a half after later, opened their own roastery, and followed with their Woodstock location the following December 2023. The Roswell Bizarre opened in February 2025 inside a historic mansion on Alpharetta Highway and Acworth arrives this fall. Those initial three "Daymakers" have become seventy five, and Mike is still beside her daily as a husband, dad and business partner who now helps grow what they bought. Somewhere along the way Sabrina's face became the brand, although she insists it worked before anyone saw her, and today she still reads every message sent to her. Franchising comes up in nearly every conversation about the future, and the answer is always no, for now, because the Kaylor's will not hand the brand to anyone who does not share her values.
"I didn't want a name that would ever be stuck somewhere. Art changes and business changes, and I wanted something that could ebb and flow with us." Sabrina Kaylor
THE ITEM SHE NEVER CHANGED
When the Kaylors took over the space on East Marietta Street, a small cafe had been feeding regulars there for six months. Sabrina had not planned to run a kitchen at all. She kept one anyway, along with several dishes those customers already loved, because the fastest way to lose a room is to walk in and rearrange it.
The Berry Best Smoothie is one of them, still on the board six years later, ordered by people who never knew it came with the building.