Fall 2010
Nine hours I stood in the same position typing in
prescriptions while my friends were out partying or whatever they did with their
time. It had been a particularly shitty day where the customers were out to get
me fired for filling their prescriptions correctly and billing their insurances
as Maryland
and Federal law states. One customer made me cry over an issue that I FIXED.
Most people go to the bar after one of these days, or weeks, or months, or
years. That job could have turned me to the drink once more but I didn’t want
to go back. I could have gone back home to play World of Warcraft until I fell
asleep but I wanted to change. Something had to break the habit.
My friend (whom I had worked with for 8 years) had just
opened a café in Baltimore
and wanted me to check it out. That day was the first day of the rest of my
life.
As I walked into the brightly lit space I had a mental
over-load. Every Starbucks I had ever entered was dimly lit with the same menu
of items you can get at any Starbucks in the country. Charmington’s had loud
lights and a chalk board menu with things I had never heard of before. Before I
even knew what was going on a black guy with thick-rimmed glasses, ebony plugs
in his ears, and tattoos poking out from under his shirt sleeve asked me what I
wanted. Coffee, that’s what people get at these places. I asked for a medium
coffee because I had no idea what coffee drinkers really drank.
“Would you like room for cream?” he asked in a soothing
voice.
This was an important question. There I was at a hipster
coffee joint. Never having enjoyed a single cup of coffee in my life. Being
asked if I wanted room for cream. Was there any other way to drink coffee?
Sometimes when I was really tired I’d try to drink coffee and pour half a sugar
bowl and a full pitcher of milk in it. That never helped though, coffee still
tasted like butt. Did people really drink coffee without anything in it? I was
at a fancy café so I had to try it black.
