A Coffee Run

The nurse asked if we needed anything. My grandpa and great aunt asked for coffee. To which the nurse responded, “Oh I don’t know how to make coffee.” We just stared at her with baffled looks.

I mean I’m no world class chef, but I can make a decent pot of coffee. So being the most able-bodied person in the room, I offered to go get some. A decision I soon regretted once I got downstairs.

“Two small coffees,” I asked. The little make-shift barista nodded towards the back wall and told me to get my cups and she’d meet me at the register. I stared wide-eyed at the dozen different canisters of coffee. I am not a coffee drinker. I like my basic iced sugary mock-coffee concoctions. I stared at the different types wondering what to get. They had just asked for two small black coffees.

House blend decaf— well I have never understood why someone would get decaf coffee, seems pointless so I skipped over that one.

Pure Dark Roast— never heard of that.

House blend— blend of what?

At this point, I was wishing there had been a list explaining the differences between all of these. I couldn’t have been the first person to stand here baffled at the choices.

French vanilla— oh that one I know, but I don’t think they would want that.

House blend of blues— what does that even mean?

100% Colombian— okay finally one I had heard of, I didn’t even bother to look at the remaining canisters. That’s what they were getting.

Now one would think that the cream and sugar would be next to the coffee canisters. They weren’t, so I had to awkwardly look around like a total idiot. I’m sure the other people were silently laughing at me. Especially after watching me struggle to snap the lids on the coffee cups. Seriously I have never had to fight a lid like I did last night. I approached the register and ordered myself an iced white chocolate mocha because after this crazy I needed something.

“Do you have a cup carrier?” I asked nodding at the three cups in front of me and my two hands.

“No.” Well don’t you think you should have said that when I started to order my third drink? “I can give you a box but the bottom might not hold everything.” I sighed. Silently cursing my predicament and vowing to never do another coffee run on foot again.

Somehow, I made it onto the elevator and back to the room without dropping anything. So I have that going for me right now.

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