Wednesday, August 21, 2013
I landed in a 7-11 while walking through the searing heat of South Florida looking for an iced coffee a while ago. I knew of a better coffee shop about a mile away, but when the tar on the street (and the blacktop) is squishy from sun, it's a wise idea to take the lower quality coffee and minimize your time in the death zone. When I walked into the A/C it was such an abrupt change I thought I might go into shock, so I hovered near the salesclerk for a moment so she'd see me collapse and call the paramedics if it came to that. While teetering I said, "Do you have regular iced coffee?" She nodded and pointed to the far wall. I found two iced coffees there: Mocha and French Vanilla. While I weighed my options she said, "Yeah, right there" from across the room. In spite of the nuclear heat outside I bought a cup of regular, fresh-brewed, scalding-hot coffee. She asked what was wrong with the iced coffee and I told her nothing, it's just that we have different ideas of what constitutes regular.
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