I am out of coffee.
Money is tight, I don’t want to pay for a cup.
If I don’t get coffee, I will fall asleep at my desk today. That is not so much a problem but for the fact that my desk is very uncomfortable, and I will wake up with a stiff neck.
Also, my co-workers might draw a penis on my face or something, although that is doubtful since I don’t work in a college fraternity house.
I must get coffee.
The Muddy Cup would be my first choice, but they have mysteriously closed the location near my house.
On my way to work, I will pass a Starbucks and a Dunkin’ Donuts. Both allow me the option of a drive-thru, a nice convenience on this bleary day.
If I chose Starbucks, I will have to go through my regular anxiety of hating their naming system. I want a medium coffee, dammit. I don’t want to have to play along by saying “grande.” But if I say “medium” that makes me sound like a picky, whiny snob who cares way too much about personal freedoms in ordering coffee. But if I say “grande” then I feel like a tool for playing along with the evil coffee empire.
I will go to Dunkin’ Donuts where “medium” means “medium.” Decided. However! Going there means that I have to make that awful left turn on to a busy street on the way back to work. I hate that left turn. It’s close to a major intersection, and people are always shooting out of the gas station across the street, and nice drivers wave you in, not realizing that if you go at that moment, you’ll get hit by an oncoming car. Then they get mad when you don’t respond to their wave, and drive away with a sneer. I’m just not in the mood to deal with that left turn. I will go to Starbucks.
Maybe, if I’m lucky, the Starbucks barista (another word I hate, and one with is not recognized by Firefox spell check) will give me a free sample of whatever confection they are pushing today. But they usually only give those to people who go into the store, and I was hoping to drive-thru. I suppose I can get out of the car. But what if I do that, and they’re not giving out free samples? What will be the point of getting out of the car? It’s a gamble. I’ll just hedge my bets and go to Dunkin. America runs on it, supposedly. It’s the patriotic choice.
Oh, but such temptation to order a donut with my coffee! Maybe if I stay in my car, I will have the fortitude to just say “medium coffee, black” and not slip in the words “with a cruller.” But those pictures on the ordering board are so tempting! Last time I pep-talked myself into not ordering a donut, and I ended up with hash browns. Not because I really wanted them, but because I wanted to reward myself for not ordering the donut. I cannot guarantee that I will do the same this time. But if I do accidentally order something bad for me, maybe I will get lucky and get hit by a car while trying to make the impossible left turn and thereby will not have to eat the fattening treat that would have only given me ten minutes of happiness. But last time I was in the hospital, someone brought me donuts. So major injury does not guarantee healthy eating.
I will go to Starbucks.
I could go to that little coffee shop a few miles up the road. I’m already going to be five minutes late for work, what’s another ten? Wasn’t I just telling everyone to shop local anyway?
Arg. I’m really late now.
I just get my car and point it in a direction. If I’m going to be ten minutes late for work, I might as well be twenty minutes late for work.
And here I am at the grocery store, buying a bag of coffee. And here I am going home to brew it. And here I am arriving thirty minutes late for work with a fresh-brewed cup of coffee in my Muddy Cup (may she rest in peace) mug. And while I’m already thirty minutes late, why not take another thirty to document the tale?