Order expensive coffee. Taste expensive coffee. Try to place bad taste of expensive coffee. Decide it tastes a bit like iced beef broth with a tinge of far-too-acidic coffee. Be appalled with this realization for a multitude of reasons, mainly because you're a vegetarian. Consider asking for a replacement expensive coffee. Stare at the coffee counter long enough to make it awkward for everyone in the coffee shop. Decide you don't have what it takes to ask for another expensive coffee. Decide it's less about your self-confidence and more about the fact that if this expensive coffee tastes like that, another expensive coffee will taste like that too. Pat yourself on the back for realizing you're not a spineless consumer, just a realist. Set the expensive coffee aside and stare at it periodically with derision. Get thirsty and decide to try another sip of the expensive coffee. Notice that it still tastes a bit like iced beef broth with a tinge of far-too-acidic coffee. Start thinking maybe it isn't the coffee, it's just you and your inability to ever be satisfied because you want too much, and you need to stop living in your delusions of grandeur. Sip the expensive coffee again. Start thinking maybe it doesn't taste like that at all, that you're just being crazy. Start thinking maybe you do have a persecution complex, sitting there at the coffee shop thinking that the barista and the system is against you charging you all this money for a horrible-tasting expensive coffee when, in fact, it's just your high expectations. Start to realize that you are incredibly lucky that you even have an expensive coffee, do you know how many people would be happy to have an expensive coffee? Think, yeah, sure, I don't really like this expensive coffee, it's not really for me, but I should probably just drink the expensive coffee since I spent the money and time on it. Start thinking, mmmmm, maybe this expensive coffee is actually really good. Start loving the expensive coffee. Start feeling guilty for ever thinking there was anything wrong with the expensive coffee when -- clearly -- the only thing there was anything wrong with was you. Lower your eyes in shame in the presence of the expensive coffee. Apologize profusely to the expensive coffee. Tell the expensive coffee you're so sorry for ever thinking it ever did anything wrong when you have such a track record for being an unstable fuck-up. Beg the expensive coffee not to leave you even though secretly inside you still think you're right about it tasting a bit like iced beef broth with a tinge of far-too-acidic coffee, and that's just really not a taste you want to spend any significant amount of time with. Start sobbing and blabbering on and on about how you know you screw everything up, you always have, probably always will. Start pounding your fist on the table in a rageful realization about how you're the reason nothing ever goes right in your life or relationships. Yell to the expensive coffee, "I JUST WANNA HAVE YOUR BABY!" Realize the entire coffee shop is looking at you in curious horror. Realize that at least two people in the coffee shop have filmed your inappropriate interaction with the expensive coffee. Gather your belongings in a hurry and rush out of the coffee shop ashamed. Get to your car and realize you left the expensive coffee on the table. Feel proud about that. Think about how much money and time you committed to the expensive coffee though. Start believing it's a sign of maturity to try and work things out with the expensive coffee. Walk back up to the door of the coffee shop fearing the expensive coffee will no longer be there. Imagine that the expensive coffee is now in the smooth, soft hands of someone at least 15 years younger, its straw in the supple, uncracked lips of some hot, giggly blonde. Fling open the door to see the expensive coffee is still waiting for you on the table. Have a movie moment with the expensive coffee. Run to the expensive coffee. Take the expensive coffee in your arms. Passionately french kiss the expensive coffee. Tell the people in the coffee shop to go fuck themselves because they don't know the expensive coffee like you do. Storm out in with the swishy hips of self-righteousness. Climb into the driver's seat of your car. Breathe deeply. Calm yourself. Look at the expensive coffee sitting there beside you. Realize that -- perhaps -- you have some personal issues you should probably work out.
In Case You Were Wondering . . .
Sometimes Ronnie D writes funny stuff. Sometimes she writes desperate teenage prose. Most times she just slams her feeble, little woman-hand onto the keyboard in an attempt to feel something, anything.