I went to Dunkin Donuts this morning for an iced coffee. The woman at the counter asked me if I wanted cream and sugar in it and I said no.

She made the coffee with it anyway. I was too tired to wait another five minutes for a black coffee so I left without complaining.

As I stood in line, the lady next to me ordered a more complex drink. A 3/4 decaf with 1/4 caffeinated iced coffee, splenda and cream. I’m certain they screwed up her drink as well.

I would too if someone came into my shop asking me to measure the amount of decaf versus caffeine in a drink. The way I see it, drink decaf or regular. Stay on one side or the other. Why complicate things, it’s only coffee.

Time has stopped.

I’m surrounded by relatives I never see.

Thanks for being there in this time of
need, my dear friend Alcohol.

My grandmother died this morning at Holy Cross Hospital. My mother brought her to the hospital the night before because she had a fever and said she felt really sick.

The doctors said she had pneumonia and was not strong enough to fight it off.

I wasn’t informed until the following day around 6:30 p.m. I was at work when I got the call from my mother.

“Your grandmother is in the ICU, she’s really sick.”

“What? I’ll be right there. I’m at work. I’m leaving now.”

“No, it’s OK, you don’t have to leave work, Andrea.” My mother was in denial and was hoping the situation wasn’t as bad as the doctors described.

“I’m on my way, I’ll be right there.”I turned to my manager, and told him what was going and left.

I called my father on the way to the hospital. He could barely speak and told me to prepare for the worst. I drove like a drunken person, completely out of focus.

At the hospital, the front desk gave me a pass and scribbled down my grandmother’s room number. They gave me directions to her room but I didn’t understand. I was overwhelmed with confusion. My sense of direction was nonexistent and I ended up wandering around for what seemed like an eternity.

“Can I help you?” asked a nurse.

“I have to go to this room,” I said holding up my visitor’s pass.

I was on the wrong floor.

The nurse walked me over to an elevator and gave me more directions that seemed impossible to follow. I nodded my head. Left from right, meant nothing to me in that place that smelled like disinfectant cleaning products. I hate hospitals. I hate the way they smell. What a horrible, lonely, place to spend your final hours.

Every corner I turned, I saw patients in their beds, waiting for God knows what. I suddenly, heard a familiar voice, my aunt’s.

“Andrea, we’re in here.”

The voice came from the waiting room outside of the ICU. There sat my mother, two of her sisters and their husbands.
One look at their faces, in that cold, florescent lit, sterile room, was all it took to break me into tears.

My mom guided me to where her mother struggled to survive.

“She can’t breathe on her own, she has on a mask. It looks worse than it is,” she said, still in denial.

She looked bad. She had tubes stuck in her arms by needles. An oxygen mask was covering her face that enabled her to speak.
She was wearing white mittens that looked like boxing gloves.

“What are those for?” I asked feeling pissed off. They made her look like a freak. The entire sight was like a horror scene: A nightmare that’s not supposed to involve your grandmother.

“So she can’t take out the IV, she was trying to fight off the doctors.”

But her body could not fight off the pneumonia. Her health quickly deteriorated in front of us. A few hours later, she died around 4:00 a.m.

The hardest part about the loss of my grandmother is seeing my family devasted, especially my mother.

There’s a couple making out in the coffee shop and I’m trying not to puke in my mouth.

Oh, I did a little. Can these people just leave and relieve me of witnessing their so-called love affair?

“Oh, baby, I just love how you sip on your latte…”

Seriously, WTF?

Give it 3 more months then reality will sink in and they will discover how much they hate each other.

“No, that latte is mine! Get your own, jerk!”

Or, maybe they will fall deeply, madly in love and run off into the hills to only be eaten by wolves. How tragic.

Eventually the copulating couple left. Next on the list of interesting folks to enter the scene were a group of teenagers.

“Hey, uhhhhhh, we want coffee….mmm yeah!”

They reeked of marijuana.

10 minutes later, they ordered their drinks.

“I work in a coffee shop!” exclaimed one of the girls with pink streaks in her hair.

“Nice.”

“Can we smoke a joint in here?”

“Uh, no. I’ll lose my job. Go outside and smoke.”

“Oh, I was just joking..”

“No, you weren’t, dude.”

It seems these people forgot that a coffee shop is not their living room. Go smoke and makeout else where, people!

“Did you know today is national donut day?” I asked the three cops standing in line at Latte Land last Friday.

“Hey, listen, just because we are cops doesn’t mean we eat donuts!”

“I’m serious. Dunkin Donuts and that other place are giving them out for free today. To celebrate donut day!”

“Oh.”

“Coffee?”

“3 mediums.”

I love talking to cops about donuts, it almost seems inapproriate. It’s one of those topics that boderlines rude to harmless humor.

I didn’t realize how much I cared until my relationship came to an end with the guy I’ve been dating the past 6 months. Now, I’m totally bummed out listening to sad songs and wondering what could have been, if only things were different, but the reality is they are not.

How completely wrong the guy was for me that it was so predictable for my friends to see. I, on the other hand, thought we had a great connection that would lead to something beautiful. Instead, I was told what I didn’t want to hear and then things got frustrating.

“What do you want?”

“I don’t know.”

“How can you not know after all this time?”

Getting a straight answer out of the guy was like pulling teeth and I’m not a dentist.

“I’m not a mind reader!”

“Why can’t two people come together without it getting complicated?”

“You’re making things complicated!”

“I don’t know what I…”

“You don’t know? I’ll tell you what I want, a steady, no bullshit boyfriend. If it’s not with you, then someone else!”

“I’ll think about what you said and give you a call later this week.”

Time passed on and I still have no clue what the guy wanted, he wouldn’t say but he continued to come around.

“Do you want to go see a movie later this week?”

Yeah, great idea! Let’s sit in a dark room where we can’t talk and act like everything is cool. His lack of communication and indecisiveness was maddening to the point I lost my patience and couldn’t deal with seeing him again.

The way I see things, it’s either all or nothing.

I regret the entire experience. If only, I had never involved myself beyond a platonic friendship, I wouldn’t be sitting here sullen, angry, and annoyed with wasted time.

I feel somewhat heartbroken by the guy who couldn’t articulate his feelings to me. The experience taught me more on what I expect from a romantic partner, even though, through my sadness I’d pass on such a lesson.

The next man I date better excel in communication and have a clear idea on what he wants. Six months is enough time to know if you want to be with someone or not, I think.

Thursday is today but it feels more like Friday. Is someone playing a game or am I just a little out of it?

I suppose it’s the latter. It must be time for a pick me up!

All I can think about is sipping down an iced cappuccino. I love the mix of cold milk and the warm milk froth in one sip. It’s like a play on senses for your taste buds. When it’s hot like it is during the summer in South Florida, you may want to opt for an iced, rather than hot, coffee beverage.

If you have never indulged in an iced cappuccino here is the recipe:

Ingredients
2 shots of espresso
8 cubes of ice
4 ounces of cold milk (your choice of whole, nonfat, or soy)
3 ounces of steamed, frothy milk
Sweetener is optional (avoid using Splenda)

Directions
Pull two shots of espresso and pour them into a glass. Add the cold milk, stir and drop in the ice cubes. Set aside glass as you steam some milk in a pitcher. Allow the steamed milk to cool for about 30 seconds. The froth will become denser like a nice fluffy cloud. Scoop the froth with a large spoon and add to the milk and espresso.
Sip. Enjoy. And Smile. You are about to get caffeinated.

If you do not have an espresso machine in your home, go to your neighborhood indie coffee house and order one from your favorite barista.

As the Memorial Day weekend came to a close, I went out a final time to have a little fun and ended up making out with a new guy. Today not only do I feel gross about kissing him, he, unfortunately, turned out to be a total weirdo.

I initially met the guy I’m going to call Joey a few months ago. He was tall, had great biceps and beautiful green eyes. He stopped in one night at Latte Land and introduced himself as the new bartender on the block.

“I started working here a few weeks ago. You should stop by. I’ll buy you a drink.”

I didn’t stop in to see him that night because I was dating someone.

Fast forward a few months to last Monday night, and I ran into Joey again. There I was with a few friends listening to Fourth Dimension, an amazing local reggae band, and there he was sitting at a table nearby.

We made eye contact and he walked over, said hello and asked if he could by me a drink. I said yes. And then he asked if I were dating anyone.

“I’m single,” I said with a grin.

“Oh, that’s good to hear!”

He joined our table and eventually my friends decided to go home. I stayed and chilled with him engaging in let’s-get-to-know-each-other talk.

Then we went over to my car and made out. He invite me to go to his place. I said no.

“Oh, come on. I just want you to come over and cuddle. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

I didn’t buy it. It was two in the morning. No guy just wants to cuddle.

“No, thanks. I was raised Catholic, I have rules.”

“It’s time you break those rules, honey. You only live once.”

Oh, great. I’m so tired of these guys who lecture me on living in the moment and tell me how you only live once as if I didn’t know this already.

“Let’s hang tomorrow instead. I’ll call you,” I told the guy, kissed him good night and went home alone.

I woke up feeling like crap. I felt gross and guilty for some reason. And then I felt empty and began missing my ex, the guy with whom I did have an emotional connection .

I don’t understand but all of my unresolved feelings for him came up and there I was the morning after having to face them. I cried and told myself to forget it.

And then Joey called.

“It’s over,” I told myself, “it’s time to move on from the past.”

Joey asked me if I wanted to hang out.

“What do you have in mind?” I asked.

“How about we get a DVD and watch a movie at your place? I’ll pick up some food and I’ll cook you dinner.”

I wasn’t sure what to say so I agreed and told him I’d call him later after I had finished the things I had to do for the day. We hung up the phone and then I thought about his proposal.

“Wait a second! I don’t know about this dude. I don’t feel comfortable having him come to my place. And why cook dinner? What happened about going out to a public place?” I thought to myself feeling unsure.

I didn’t call him back.

At 9:00 p.m. I looked at my phone and saw that I had four missed calls from him.

“WTF? Who calls that many times? He doesn’t even know me! I better call him back and cancel.”

I did just that and he told me off.

“Why haven’t you called me the past three hours?” he said bitching at me.

“Uh, I said, I’d call you later,” I tried giving an excuse. He didn’t care what I had to say. Then he lectured me on how I treat people, and if this is what I do, only assholes will date me. I didn’t understand his intense emotions. We hardly knew one another.

“Listen, I just got out of a relationship. This whole dinner and movie thing at my place is something I’m not ready for. If you wanted to meet up at a Starbucks somewhere that would have been fine,” I tried to explain.

“What are you in elementary school? Watching a movie is too much for you?”

“No, but watching a movie at my place is. I don’t know you. I’d rather meet in a public place…”

“I don’t want to hang out with you anymore. Actually, I don’t want to talk to you again. I think you are crazy. Last night you make out with me. Today you were so excited about the dinner and movie idea and then a few hours later you change your mind? Crazy!”

“Um, ok,” I didn’t care to argue. And I don’t recall ever being excited about anything. He must have read into something too much. He continued to bitch at me.

I didn’t care, let him believe what he wants.

But really, this was happening all way too fast for me to even catch up to where he was. Why was he being so emotional over this?

“I don’t know you. We shouldn’t even have a complicated conversation like this!” I said annoyed.

“You know what else I wanted to do tonight? I was going to give you a facial! I bought this cream today at the mall and thought we could try it out!” he continued to rant and called me a jerk a few more times and then he said, “I’m gonna go now!”

So, I said, “OK,” and hung up the phone without saying goodbye.

Not only was he too intense too soon, he wanted to give me a facial. Something, I never want a guy to give me on the first, second, or one hundredth date.

And considering how weird he was acting, I’m glad I never found out what kind of facial he had in mind.

Customers love to tell me all about their lives. Recently, a man raised the bar of nuttiness at Latte Land.

Is it my face that says, “Tell me, I’ll understand and I really want to know, so go ahead, spill it.”

I don’t think so.

Instead of hearing the usual story about people’s work lives and relationship woes, a man had something different to say.

“I have a question. Do you have any idea if that person sitting outside is a man or woman?”

“Well, I don’t know, I think she’s a woman. She is wearing a skirt.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” he said and he did have a point. The person in question had masculine features and was dressed wearing 1970’s garb with the hippy version of a head band in tack along with feathered earrings, all of which screamed “Look at me!”

Cross dresser? Or hopeless woman with with tacky fashion sense?

The man continued to stare at the person sitting outside who was chatting happily next to a very feminine woman whose wardrobe wasn’t trapped in the 70’s. They clashed in style and made the scene even more odd.

“Hey, don’t stare, she’s gonna know that you’re looking,” I said trying not to myself.

“I’m going to go outside and ask if she is a man or woman!” the man said with a burst of energy.

“Ok, if you do, I’ll give you a free cup of coffee,” I said jokingly.

And he started to walk towards the door and then my morality hit me.

“Wait! Don’t! It’s rude. You could really hurt the person’s feeling, if you…”

“Oh it’s ok! I can ask. I don’t have any testicles!” he said and looked me dead in the eye. He was serious. And then I was confused about his gender but did not want to ask.

“Oh.” I didn’t know what to say. I’ve never had a customer discuss his package or lack thereof with me on the job.

“Yeah, I had cancer and had an operation, so now, no more testicles! But it’s OK, I’m man enough without them!”

“Um, wow. Really. Wow,” I said slightly uncomfortable.

At that point, a woman walked over to the man without nuts and put her arm around him. He introduced her as his wife and then he proceeded to ask me personal questions.

“Do you like boys or girls?”

“Oh, I like guys, sometimes, when they are nice.”

“Yeah, we are swingers! Are you into couples?” he and his wife both looked at me with big smiles and then they cracked up laughing.

“Hahaha! Just joking! But I really don’t have testicles,” he said and then his wife confirmed, “He doesn’t.”

Then the two ladies, or what seems to be two ladies, got up and left. I suppose the mystery will have to remain until next time.

“OK, guys, we are going to have to wrap this up. I have dishes to wash in the back now,” I said taking my exit from what now had become an act in a play that I didn’t feel like performing in.

I didn’t have dishes to do. I just needed to get away from the weirdness. I couldn’t imagine where the conversation would have gone, if I had stayed in it, just a little longer.

Quirky people can be fun to talk to and I do enjoy writing blog entries about them but there’s a certain point of absurdness I can’t deal with. Coffee and sexual freakiness, don’t mix well for me.

But then again, it takes a special kind of weirdo to share with complete strangers that your nuts have been removed and I’m not there to know everything. I there to make the coffee.

~Just another day in Latte Land, my friends.

It’s time for a coffee break, guys. As of last Sunday, May 10, I have not indulged in the brown water. The choice was a mere accident, for this caffeine addicted barista. Why? I’ve been at home suffering with a sinus and ear infection and the thought of drinking coffee has not crossed my mind. I’ve had no need to wake up and go to work but instead I’ve stayed at home to rest and beat the beast of an ear infection. It’s been me pathetically draped on the couch like a lifeless blob watching every available reality TV show hoping that within the next hour my pain will go away.

I no longer consume coffee, instead, I prefer Chamomile tea with honey and a side of Kleenex.

Now it’s Saturday, almost a week later and I’m starting to feel better. I went to the Little Clinic in Deerfield Beach where I was prescribed antibiotics and nasal spray. My energy is slowing coming back and yes, I can actually breathe through my nose again which has been plugged all week. I’ve gone through about three and counting boxes of Kleenex and loads of honey and bad reality TV programs.

Sitting at home, slurping up chicken noodle soup, and not having anyone around is not only boring but makes me feel worse. I already feel like crap and don’t have the energy to do anything but I’m not enjoying all this idle time. I’ve almost forgotten what it feels like to be healthy. I swear I’ll take my vitamins from now on and I’ll drink less, just please God, don’t let me get sick again! Thanks!

I’ve spent so much time in isolation over the past few days that I’ve begun talking to my cat. I’m sure my roommate thinks I’m nuts but who cares, she’s moving out at the end of the month anyway. Yes, Buddy and I have had some great conversations, some that ran deeper than the latest guy I’ve dated.

More stories to come, once I get back to work and some strange customer walks into Latte Land and begs to be blogged about.