George Albert Anderson (psychoanalytic) wrote in genome_project, @ 2011-01-23 15:06:00 |
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Entry tags: | january 2011, open |
Who: George and open.
What: A neurotic Starbucks visit.
Where: Starbucks.
When: Sunday
Rating: Low.
If there was a long enough IV that stretched out from Starbucks to wherever George wandered throughout the day infusing him with enough caffeine to power a nuclear submarine, he would be in heaven. There was nothing more satisfying that getting your caffeine fix. He knew it was bad to be addicted to such a heart racing substance, but it made him feel better. And if it made him feel better, well, that was all he really needed. Today, since it was Sunday, he was not in his regular work suit but rather in a comfortable long-sleeved shirt and jeans.
By the time he entered the Starbucks, George was ready for his fix. There was a small line, but he approached the counter in little time. Placing his hands on the counter, he began his order. "Yes, hello, I would like a tall double mocha latte with four and a half sugars please." He scooted down the line and reached for his wallet in his back pocket. Everything was in perfect order. His bills were neatly stacked in the space designed for the bills in order of value. He had two 20s, a 10 and four 1s. The pictures of his daughters and wife had their own cozy spots within the wallet, and he smiled every time he scrolled past them.
"Sir?"
He looked up just in time to receive his drink and pay for it with exact change before heading over to get a stirrer. He always liked to stir his coffee exactly thirty-seven times. It was just the right amount, he had determined, to bring out the flavor of the coffee without the sugar settling at the bottom or dispersing completely. Once that was done, he took a sip and tested it for taste and temperature. He smiled. It was perfect.