coffee

During the course of the day, I will follow my old footsteps (at various points of my time in New York).  Here I sit drinking Starbucks Coffee, that dirty powerhouse, a shoppe I NEVER dropped into. Why you ask?  Because I would rather drink  about a million other cups of coffee ranging from the street carts, the deli’s for a predictable cup of joe and my egg white and cheese on whole wheat toast…to my stroll to Ceci Cela for a cafe Americana and ham & cheese baguette, to go please.  Café Con Leche and molettes at the Cafe Habana… barside. And that favorite walk down Spring Street to Balthazar Bakery for my all time favorite cup of coffee, where I would sit on the long benches people watching, reading my paper or merely passing time.

bakery

Yep, I sit here and drink my Starbucks enviously knowing those mentioned above are open for business this morning.  I would probably really be irked now that Stumptown is around.  I drink it from my friend (and old Portlander) Kim’s French press.  Lucky me, I can order online.  Still, something about ordering feels a sad, second place consolation prize for the real thing…live coffee.

Hmph.

See you at lunch.

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