4 Cream, 4 Sugar
I turned 31 this year, and I've noticed that I am drinking more coffee than I ever have.
I don't have it every day. I actually only have it a couple times a week, but I think about having it way more often than that, which is why I limit myself. :)
When I buy a cup of coffee, which I also try to limit, one of my favorite places to get it is McDonald's. It's only $1.06, and I can usually find that amount in change laying around my car or in my wallet.
I like my coffee sweet and creamy - as in, 4 cream, 4 sugar, sweet and creamy.
However, I am a little embarrassed about this because I know full well that I am probably not considered a "real" coffee drinker by most standards. You know those people who like their coffee black (Hi Dad and Mom!) and would never, ever consider ruining it by adding anything. I do wish I liked it black because it would be quite a bit healthier for me...and less embarrassing. But I don't, and I can't see it changing anytime soon.
Anyway, back to McDonald's.
We were on vacation. Sitting in the car for a long time makes me tired and really want coffee. So, my dear, sweet hubby pulled into a McDonald's.
I went inside and waited in a long line (I'm pretty sure everyone in the entire town was there) to get my one small, coveted cup of coffee. When I got up to the front, I said, as quietly as I could, "One small coffee. 4 cream, 4 sugar, please." The unsmiling (I think this is a requirement for McDonald's employees) woman rung me up and took my change. Then, I found a spot near the back with the 50 other people who were also waiting.
Finally, after shifting my posture one too many times, I could see the woman filling my cup, adding the cream and sugar. I tried to make my way to the front fast enough that she didn't have to blast my noxious habit to the whole restaurant, but she must have been wearing roller skates. Once at the counter, she used her best stage voice and proclaimed, "Small coffee! 4 cream, 4 sugar!"
I walked to the counter with my tail between my legs, feeling all eyes attempt to scan my arteries. "Yes, that's mine. Thank you," I squeaked. Trying to smile and hold my head high, like I was proud of the extreme amount of unwholesomeness I take in my coffee, I exited the building without making eye contact. I'm pretty sure I heard a couple old timers say, "She's a fake. Real coffee drinkers like it black."
Thankful to get back in the car and away from those judgmental onlookers, I took a sip.
It needed more sugar. And maybe another cream.
I had another episode starring 4 cream, 4 sugar. You can read about that one here. :)