What a week... this week I had to do a course in hospital administration for my work. Which meant coming home late and working five days instead of four. In that same week I stayed up late several nights, partly to communicate with some people in L.A. (9 hour time difference). And because I had only the later part of the evening to do all the chores I usually do when I get home from the office. Just when I had decided to pull my weigth and get rid of a lot of the trash [which I did: no more old paper piles, five happy degus in clean cages, a cleared dinner table. And no dirty dishes. No more Olympics in my living room / studio]
Today's friday, a regular day at the office, thank God. So this morning my son and I picked up our habit again. We always take the same train at our home town. At the next station we get off together. My son is at walking distance from his school and the connecting train to my work stops here. Before we separate, we go to a tiny café called 'Teestie' [pronounced as 'tasty'] for a chocolate milk and a coffee. The latter in a carton cup, because I have only time for half of it. The rest I take with me to platform 1.
Funny. Yesterday I went to bed two hours earlier than all other days this week and I got up feeling worse than ever. My mind too chaotic to make coffee for breakfast. So I hopped on the train in a low-caffeine state, thinking how unfair it is to have a hangover without having had a party (not that I'm fond of parties...) The idea of having a double espresso-black-no_sugar is what I clung to.
At the next station Teestie was open, no customers, no standing in line! My son walked over to 'our' table and I went to the counter, with visions of my double espresso-b-ns. The coffee machine made a familiar sound already, a reason to get suspcious...
The girl behind the counter gave me her best welcome back smile -I had been absent a few days due to the training- and informed me she had already made my coffee. She was preparing a tray putting milk and sugar on it, which I never use. I added a bottle of chocolate milk and the girl completed the still with my -undesired- coffee. In a stone mug!!
She made almost every mistake possible. Except for one thing. She tried to show me how well she knows me and that she likes me, by serving so promptly with the extra effort of preparing that tray. And any coffee served with so much care is Damn Tasty.