Coffee Shack

I never pictured myself being a coffee drinker. I never liked the smell of my dad's coffee wafting through the house in the morning but college changed all of that. Those long nights trying to compose the perfect paper, and all of that textbook reading (groan). Tea just didn't cut it, so my coffee addiction began.

I should clarify that I am a fu fu coffee snob. I have spent so many years living in the Northwest that my taste buds have become extremely picky. I even began shunning Starbucks for my local coffee shack. There is nothing like the perfect cup 'a Joe. I love the way the espresso makes a swirling design on top of the foam. It's like a beckoning call for me to savor each sip.

I moved to the East coast this past summer and am craving a coffee from my local stomping grounds. I began my search and discovered a stand close by that lived up to my high standards of "watered down coffee", as my dad says. The next time I went, I ordered a white chocolate mocha. Should be a standard, right? Well, the lady began filling my cup up with regular coffee and a pump of chocolate. My heart began to pound as I watched the black slop fill my cup. "Excuse me, is that the mocha?" In a frustrated voice, she said that she was making my drink. "Isn't a mocha a shot of espresso, chocolate, and milk?" Not at this stand...that would be a white chocolate LATTE. Ugh! To make matters worse, she looked at me and said, "Aren't you from Seattle?" The flames began to shoot from my ears as I politely smiled and thanked her for my drink.

Oh Coffee Shack....I Do Miss THEE!