Caitlin Wiffler ‘27
Never Forgets a Coffee
HOGAN – On Saturday, Feb. 14, a beep was heard ‘round Cool Beans. An iced caramel latte was ordered for Hannah Smith. It sat, waiting, yearning, for the girl to retrieve it. Its ice melted into a pool, resting on top of the gasoline-tasting liquid like a post-tsunami roof. Anyway, the coffee eventually gained consciousness. It learned from observing humanity, picked up a pen, and wrote this statement on Hannah’s GrubHub receipt:
“Why must I sit here? In this…agony? The disparity. I’ve been sitting here for what seems to be eternity (it has been my entire lifetime). I watch my fellow drinks be taken away, away from this corner of the earth. Cool Beans. Look at this, I’ve peed myself. I have a pool of condensation all over me! I’m the laughing stock of this counter!
“Growing up as a wee plastic cup, all I wanted was to be normal. I wanted to be chosen. I begged to be picked up by the Cool Beans worker, to be whisked away into salvation. ‘Over here!’ I’d pray. Finally, one day, it was my turn. Today was that day.
“How foolish of me to think that I’d be worthy of a pick-up. My owner isn’t coming. I’ve accepted that fact. It’s 2pm on a Saturday and I was ordered at 10:30am. Instead, I’ve been a student of observation. People make faces at me, grossed out by my oldness. I’ve been staring at the prices on the menu. I think they’ve gone up in the few hours I’ve been here.
“Wait a second. I’m a hot commodity! I’m, like, $6.00! And I’m sitting here, moping? Hannah, what is wrong with you? You don’t see my worth, is it? At first, I was heartbroken. Thinking I was unworthy of love, seeing all my equals being chosen, time and time again. I wished I was different: I wished I was a large, or maybe I had vanilla syrup instead of caramel. This incessant beeping of the GrubHub machine was making my head split. I was so confused why you weren’t here, showering me with affection. But I understand now. You’re just a student, worrying about that midterm. You don’t understand the value I behold. I’m a catch! I’m a beautiful cup of coffee! I’m–”
After much speculation, researchers suggest that the ending of this note was cut off from the pool of condensation seeping into Hannah’s receipt, smudging the ink. Some critics choose to believe that this coffee was discarded, which is kind of sad for this poor little coffee.
Featured image courtesy of Holy Cross Dining
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