Coffee talk

The thing about living in New England, which is probably true about living in other places, is that if you’re not a native – you’ll probably never be a native.

I wasn’t born here. Some stuff I’ll never pull off convincingly. I can’t sprinkle “wicked” into my speech with any kind of straight face. I tend to pronounce my Rs. I’ve accepted that for some people I’ll always be Alysser instead of Alyssa.

But yesterday, I was promoted at my local coffee establishment. I stop in at a place a few times a week for a nice cup of joe. Medium, dark roast please. It’s not fancy; it’s just good and cheap. My favorite combination!

I walked into the place, winding past dogs and baby strollers. The woman behind the counter saw me coming and says, “Medium, dark roast?”

I nodded. She handed me the cup and I hand her $1.73.

“You’re a regular now,” she said as she moved on to the next customer.

Ah – just what I needed. There are perks to being a redhead. It’s not all drunk guys and homeless dudes yelling at you, sometimes the people at your favorite coffee place remember you.

Labels: 2007, Boston, weird stuff