coffee virgin

Should I make a list of my own “favorite things,” on it would definitely be the trademark Barnes & Noble smell. You know, when you open the doors and whoosh—the smell of paper, ink, and coffee rush out to greet and wrap you up all snuggly like. Coffee–that tantalizing unknown.

So, when I finally received my big letter from LDS Church Headquarters, we went out to celebrate.

Barnes & Noble. Starbucks. Coffee.

But, what kind? Straight-up coffee? Cappucinno? Latte? Frappucinno?

Then Dan, smiling, nudged me. “You know you’re going to get a latte.” (Huh?) “Kristen Chenowith? The latte boy?”

Latte it is! Except my latte boy was coworker Jason. The cup of satan spit coffee was gloriously shower hot, and I couldn’t hold it in one position for long with my cold hands.

Dan caught the big moments of transition: before, first sip, second sip

That was not a latte. That was a boiled mixture of old man slippers and cigar ashes. Disgusting.

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