Friday, July 26, 2013

I Am That Girl

The delicious smell of coffee fills the air. Its strong, yet comfy, scent makes such an impact, you feel as though you can reach out and grab it. Instead, it reaches out and carries you by the nose and sensation station to the source, creating a tunnel vision affect that drowns out your surroundings in a matter of moments.

It's an inexplicable feeling walking into a coffee shop. It feels like a warm, strong-scented hug, like an uncle who likes to party covered in Brute. I feel like I could wheel in a radio flyer full of books and take the day. Its a safe haven of time stopped in an otherwise spinning world.

Aside from this intricately painted portrait of awesomeness, when I walk into a coffee shop, I become "that girl." I softly walk to the counter as I let my senses drink in the environment and I look curiously at the menu. It's important to note, this minute act, the menu gaze, is vital to getting a coffee, despite the fact I order the same thing over and over. I'm sure Freud has a reason why, but right now, my excuse is to relive the scene from You've Got Mail when Tom Hanks talks about the coffee shop. (Attached below for your reference.) I've always believed if I lived in New York, my goal in life would focus on being Meg Ryan in You've Got Mail, but that's another blog post.

Regardless, once I reach my already premeditated decision, I confidently order from the countless options, "tall mocha latte, non-fat." It's a widely known fact that coffee is loaded with calories. The more extravagant, the more unhealthy. America orders non-fat to let the guilt roll off their shoulders and fully enjoy their cup of joe. I sit patiently as I watch the barista so skillfully work, their motions memorized and so smoothly done to deliver delight in a cup that will positively alter your morning. Once the not-as-unhealthy coffee is so delicately made to your liking, the question hangs in the air and over your head.

"Would you like whip cream?"

In your mind and to anyone with sense you would say, "Of course not! I just ordered a coffee with non-fat milk. Don't you know I'm watching my figure?" Yet they still ask. And when they do, my heart starts racing, a bead of sweat drips past my brow and my hands are wringing until I've spoken. "Yes," I respond calmly, despite my opposing demeanor. I am that girl--I order non-fat, but I counter it with whip cream. Every time.

I feel as though baristas have been trained to avoid judgement on this situation. Thankfully so, barista's are deliverers of happiness in a cup and make you feel human again. This is my shoutout to all baristas who have avoided passing judgement on my oxymornic ordering patterns. Thank you for letting me feel better about myself while I lick the whip cream mustache from my lips.

Also, it is still unacceptable to instagram pictures of your Starbucks every time you go.

^ Like this

Thanks for soundin' down.


A catechism ( /ˈkætəkɪzəm/; Ancient Greek: κατηχισμός from kata = "down" + echein = "to sound", literally "to sound down" (into the ears), is a summary or exposition of doctrine, traditionally used inChristian religious teaching from New Testament times to the present.[1] Catechisms are doctrinal manuals often in the form of questions followed by answers to be memorized, a format that has been used in non-religious or secular contexts as well