When a treat turns a trick

Shit days require treats.

On my way into work this morning, after my chest x-ray, I regressed back to my senior year of college and got a vanilla latte from Starbucks. These little cups of joy were with me through exams and papers, getting up at 3 pm on Sundays, and some of the best conversations with my closest friends.

This latte was a treat for me for a couple reasons:

1. As a general rule I bring my coffee to work in a travel mug because I’m fairly certain that this drink cost me $42 if I convert it from its GBP price.

2. If I do get a latte – it’s never the vanilla ones I used to love because I’m fairly certain they have the same caloric intake as a milkshake.

But, as work has been pretty blech recently, and it’s never fun being put on antibiotics and told you have a “wheezy chest”, I figured I deserved a treat.

I should have left well enough alone. I jumped on the tube to make it into the office and as I sat down, well…the only way to describe it is that my latte “jumped” out of that tiny mouth hole in the cover and landed smack dab on the khaki trousers of the guy sitting next to me.

I turned approximately 2 shades darker than fuchsia, and even though he didn’t notice at first, the people sitting opposite me certainly had. It was only when he put his hand down a moment later and then lifted it up, wet and confused, that I muttered my “I’m so sorry, apologies.” The death look he gave me was pretty much the worst I think I’ve ever received. Note: Even worse than the one I received at 17 – showing up to my senior prom wearing the same exact dress as a fellow classmate.

Two more stops to go and they were the longest, painful, and most embarrassing I’ve ever taken.

I’m blaming it on those stupid lids. Being from Boston there’s always a debate over whether one is a Dunkin Donuts or Starbucks coffee drinker. Regardless, with a flap that can cover that open bit on the cover, hands down DD gets my vote and my heart.