“But back to the coffee. I was here on a mission. I just spent nearly five bucks I didn’t have for some coffee concoction that tasted like the charred remains of Hitler’s soul, and I was not about to leave until I had asked for her phone number.”

“I told the waitress I wanted some coffee. She asked if I wanted leaded of unleaded, so I had to leave the restaurant, because I quit drinking gasoline years ago.”

“Thanks,” I said, “have a great day.” And I turned to leave. Damn! I am such a coward. Next time I’ll get her number, I told myself, even though I said the exact same thing sixty-some dollars ago. I needed a plan. I needed an event to take her to. What did I think I was going to do, ask her out to coffee?”

“Her name was Rebecca. Or at least that’s what her nametag said. She was making my coffee at Starbucks as I admired how her green Starbucks apron matched her bright green eyes. She had hair the color of coffee with a hint of cream in it. I was trying to act casual and not make it seem like I came in here only to see her. The truth is, I hate coffee. That’s not entirely true. I do like a hint of coffee in my cup of sugar.”

“I asked the girl at the coffee shop out on a date. Unfortunately she said no, probably because I asked her out to coffee.”

“I would offer to meet up for some coffee, but I don’t drink coffee. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to burden you with my personal problems. It’s just that I haven’t been the same since the Folgers fiasco of ‘04.”

“My TV’s remote control didn’t have a source of energy, so I poured coffee in it. Now I can read any book I want.”