I actually like the coffee from my building’s little convenience store. I feel weird liking it because you’re not supposed to like office coffee, you’re supposed to start every day carrying in your own preferred [status-symbol] cup. After all, taste for good coffee denotes good taste in all matters.
But, regardless, I visit the downstairs Coffee Guys every day. I walk in and they pour my coffee without me even saying anything. Occasionally I’ll get a confirming “Small, dear?” But maybe that’s just on the days I look like I might need a medium instead.
At Christmas I bought them a card picturing a snowman refusing coffee because it’ll “go right through me.” Yuk yuk yuk. And at the start of the new year they still had my coffee ready for me, but I hadn’t heard the warmfuzzy “dear” in a while. I started to worry my card + small monetary gift wasn’t well received. I began obsessing. Would I need to pick a new, scary, outside coffee place?! I *needed* to hear the dear!
Today I went in… coffee served… wallet opened – no cash. I looked up at them ala Puss in Boots, “Umm, I need to run and get cash.” The Register Coffee Guy looked down at me and said, “Oh, just bring it by later, dear.”
Phew. We are back in coffee business, people.