I was in the shopping mall; one hand clumsily handling a starbucks takeaway cup and the other one manhandling (I consider my laptop human, grammar police ) my laptop bag. The starbucks cup I was strangling in my right hand leads us to what made me think that being a caffeine addict is an art. So let the adventure begin:-
As I entered the café and the door opened with a ding, I found myself in coffee paradise; which is one way of saying that the smell of coffee everywhere made me feel like a junkie in an illegal drug store (Not saying that I am a junkie). Looking around I found a lone seat (I was alone, I always am) and sat. I was literally beaming at the chalk board on which the list of different coffees is written. The way they write is pretty funky, Love it . Java chip Frappuccino – Yep, I prefer it cold (Contrary to the popular belief that I prefer it hot, wink). I took the cup after my name was shouted wrongly and made my way out after correcting them for the bazilyionth time.
I am pretty sure the sigh I heaved after taking the first sip was heard in metropolitan New York too. What bliss! Three sips and I felt alive. It’s a thing about us, caffeine junkies, (Hello, if you are one) our life revolves around the word coffee. Just look at my schedule for an instance.
9 Am- Grab a coffee
10-4 PM- Blah Blah Blah , you don’t need to know
4 Pm- Grab a cup a english tea before studying
6 Pm- Small coffee to accompany writing
I will not mention truthfully what size or how many for real I drink. It may prove to be a traumatic experience for my beloved reader.
One thing about being a caffeine addict and a girl is that you ought to be a writer and a feminist. I mean, I have never seen mathematics people drinking too much coffee (Bro, shut up. My generalizing revolves around high school).
So , as a feminist and high on coffee, I experienced something which boiled my blood. I wanted a jacket. I really good one for formal occasions. Red one too ( High five to girls who wear jackets). So after a pursuit of big brands like Allen Solly and Tommy Hilfiger, in vain too, I entered Louis Phillip.
“Hi, do you have jackets for ladies?” That was me, all sweet and polite.
“Erm , not really. What do ladies needs jackets for?” asked the Oompa Loompa at the counter.
Caffeine kicks in *mission impossible soundtrack*
“Why do you need a brain for?” I wanted to ask but I just exited without another word.
What an idiot , wasn’t he? All I can say is how and why is mankind so sexist.
Enough of my rant. Back to caffeine. If you are an addict, welcome home.
Whatever people may say, don’t listen. At least we can get high without actually getting high (wink).
Coffee is art and you are an artist.
And in case you are wondering, while passing that wretched shop while leaving the mall for good , I gave that shopkeeper a look which said:
“Goodbye ‘friend’. Satan awaits you in hell, enjoy the ride.” (Wink)