Coffee

Let me start off saying how much I love coffee. I LOVE COFFEE. I may have an addiction, but I keep it clean. Only one medium cup in the morning. Whole milk and real sugar. I gave up aspartame two years ago as a new years resolution.  No cups in the afternoon, I can’t handle the caffeine. But like I said, yes, I am an addict.  I must have my coffee every morning, before I get to work. I like to sip it on the subway.  I don’t have time to make my own. I get to work late as it is! I must have that coffee when I leave my house. And sadly if I am  running five minutes late to work, I am still going to get my morning coffee (I hope no one I work with is reading this). So anyway, since I moved to Forest Hills about six months ago, I have only one freakin deli near my subway. Calling it a “deli” is actually really nice of me. It basically just sells lotto tickets, newspapers, cigarettes, and prepackaged pastries (hohos, yodels, etc). There’s actually an empty store front right before the deli that I pray one day will become a Dunkin Donuts. When I lived in Astoria last year, I had soooo many options- Starbucks on the corner, the one dollar roach coach, Dunkin across the street, and the little diner right before the train.  Now all I have is this crappy deli *sigh*. The coffee is okay. I would like it to be a bit hotter, but I deal. A few weeks ago the stupid deli girl made the coffee wrong, so when I walked in- no coffee was ready for me.  I was totally willing to wait for the new coffee to be made. I was fuming. I paced back and forth for about five minutes, then super frustrated I walked out and got on the subway. No coffee in hand. I felt my mouth getting dry. I mean, I’m like Pavlov’s dog. I have programmed myself to expect that morning cup of coffee. Lets just say I was a very unhappy girl that whole day.  So today I walked in (it’s a Sunday). The coffee smelt burnt and there was a dead roach in the fridge with the milk and a live roach on the countertop next to the sugar. I told the idiot sales guy and he really didn’t seem to mind. He was more interested in his phone conversation. So now I want to vomit. Did I drink the coffee? Yes I did. Because I’m an addict and I have no other coffee choices. There must be a better way.