The Siren Call of the Coffee Shop
I could not resist the siren call of the coffee shop. As the bus sped down the street without me. I looked down at my watch. Fifteen minutes till the next bus. An eternity for an impatient Type-A personality like me. It was cold outside, and I did not want to stand around in the icy northern wind. The coffee shop was right there. I could see the bus coming from the patio. Even if I didn’t want any coffee, the coffee shop would provide some respite from the cold.
I walked in and took a seat. Stifling a yawn, I thought about the last night’s sleep. I recalled tossing and turning till way after midnight. Before I realized what I was doing, I found myself standing in line at the counter. Like an addict in an opium den, I had lost all my rational judgment. Then again, it was only coffee. There were a lot less benevolent addictions I could have.
As I boarded the next bus, I realized that, of all the addictions in the world, coffee is one of the tamest. Besides, I can’t think of anything better on a cold day after I’ve missed the bus.