measi's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- there's too much blood in my caffeine system For the first time this week, I was able to enjoy my relaxing morning habit of getting a cup of coffee before heading up to the T. I love having the slightly bitter hot liquid warm me up from the inside out as I curl up in that back corner seat on the train, watching the trees and houses of Brookline and Newton rush by in the early light. The caffeine helps me keep awake on the train ride, because the gentle rock of the train and the quiet "thunka-thunka" sound as the cars roll over each of the ties would put me back to sleep. Actually, it has on a few occasions. During my first year out of college, I worked in downtown Boston and lived out in Brighton, which is a section on the western side of the city. It was about a 45 minute train ride down to work, so I'd find an empty seat--back corner of the train, and zonk out for the ride in. I worked just next to the Park Street stop on the subway, and because of how the Green Line was developed (it's the oldest subway line in the USA... just for a tidbit of knowledge), there's a VERY sharp turn on the train right before Boylston Station (the stop before Park... or, as it often sounds by Natives, Pahk). Since I sat in the back of the train, I would be woken up as it fishtailed around the corner... kind of a snapping-awake effect. Best alarm clock there is. And the beauty of it was that if I was THAT asleep that I missed Park.. *cough* sorry... PAHK street, the end of the line was the next stop, and the conductor would whack me awake... because heaven forbid if I was cheating the MBTA out of the 85 cents to ride the other way. :) That only happened on a couple of occasions, though. I tend to be a light sleeper... especally when I know the alarm will be going off (the Boylston turn in this case). But I digress as always. My love of the subway will be another entry, because I actually DO love riding the subway. :) Anyway... so this morning I leave my apartment and head up Mass Ave towards the Hynes T stop like I usually do. And on the... oh, maybe six blocks... of Mass Ave between Symphony Hall and Newbury Street, there are three Dunkin Donuts within reasonable walking distance, a Starbucks, and a McDonalds. Lots of coffee choices, although I generally discount McD's off the bat. It's laughable how much coffee is in this city. You'd think there were over 200,000 college students desperate to stay awake or something. Oh wait. There are. ANYWAY... so I get up to Dunkin Donuts to get a cup of coffee for the first time this week, because it's been so damn hot all week that hot coffee would just be torturous. And everyone ELSE had the same idea. The line at DD's (not to be confused with D&D) was nearly out the front door. Well screw that. I need to get to my train because I have a very narrow window to catch the shuttle bus at the station to get to work. Next door? The Starbucks. *sigh* How much I hate the concept of their obscene prices for less than stellar coffee. DD's at least is cheap. It's not WONDERFUL coffee, but it's gentle tasting, and they don't give you a nasty look when you ask for a bit of extra sugar. Unlike the Starbucks employees, who tend to be so arrogant and elitist about their coffee. And I broke down and shelled out the $3.75 for the damn "Grande" Caffe Mocha, which probably is a smaller cup than that $1.45 medium cup of regular D&D coffee. At least the mocha helps dissolve some of the bitterness. And so I order a Grahnd Mocha, reading "Grande" correctly, just as I was taught in high school French... the "e" is silent, ya know... figuring that by speaking with a correct French enunciation would put me into that "elite" group of coffee drinkers for the morning. And of course, the friggin' girl behind the corner, undoubtedly a Berkeley College of Music student with her pink-tipped, pseudo-blonde hair and a couple of interesting piercings that just looked PAINFUL, corrects my beautiful pronunciation, fine-tuned by six years of French in junior high and high school, by yelling out to her coffee-making counterpart, "one Grahnd-ey Mocha." E-gads, Mrs. Corey is probably screaming back in Montana at that. Le sigh. So I get the mocha, take a sip, wince a bit at the bitterness, and trudge up to the T stop. I go through the newly-added obsticle course of avoiding Metro paper hackers (because with the ONE narrow entrance to the Hynes stop, the Metro paper felt it necessary to put FOUR friggin hackers there... and one is just obnoxious and heckles any woman who doesn't get a copy of the paper. *shudder). Get through the turnstiles, wait for a few minutes, hear what is supposed to be an announcement over the loudspeaker (but unintelligible, because the woman's voice sounds like it's rolling over a bubble), and finally get a train. Climb the stairs on the T as I usually do, and my seat in the back corner is taken. What? How DARE that person take my comfy commute seat! I'm an uncaffeinated, still sleepy non-morning person trying to get to work. I need my commute seat, dammit! I blame it on the Starbucks coffee. I think it threw me off kilter for the morning. And now it's running through me like mad and I'm making bathroom trips every 20 minutes. And as I tell LGM about this over IM as I write, he's commenting on my hereticness:
LGM: hmmm Mel: Had to be sacreligious and go to Starbucks Mel: *sniff* LGM: good, bad? LGM: ugh LGM: heretic Mel: the line was out the DOOR at DD's this morning. Mel: And I was running late for my train LGM: blasphemer Mel: I know. *hangs head in shame* LGM: *shakes head* Mel: Can you re-consecrate me into true coffee-drinker status this weekend? Mel: I realize I need to atone. LGM: only if you buy a bag of DD coffee... Mel: For you? LGM: in general (for game I was thinking) Mel: ah. Well, I can do that. LGM: then all will be forgiven So yes, I am ashamed. And as you can see, I was quite blasphemous this morning. Having to pee better not be releasing the caffeine molecules from my system isn't helping, either. I didn't pay $3.75 for a cheap quick buzz. I want the slow extended one. Le sigh... --Mel. 09:53 a.m. - 27 July 2001 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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