I don’t know how a post meant to tease about my new love affair turned into a comparison of Anna Nicole and Princess Diana. Thanks to all of you who e-mailed furiously to inquire as to the identity of the lucky man. It is with great mischief that I reveal his identity. Are you ready? Drum role, please. The lucky man is Kudu. No. He’s not African. But he is a coffee house that serves South African coffee. And I am in love.
I have this friend. We’ll call him David. He is a coffee connoisseur. He is the only connoisseur of anything that I have ever met. By that I mean that he can taste a coffee drink and tell you that they only steamed the milk to 110 degrees instead of 115. It would be a little creepy if it weren’t so facinating. He says that Starbucks in the place where coffee drinkers drink tea. Now, whenever I go to Starbucks, I get that feeling that he is going to see me and be ashamed. Ya know how when you’re watching a movie and a sex scene comes on, and you’re nervous that your parents are going to walk it? It’s kind of like that.
Anyway, David ordered a Carmel Breve for me, and I have never tasted anything like it. I thought about it for the rest of the weekend.
The whole experience left me with some deeper thoughts about how often we settle for what is easy and convenient, but I will save that for another post.
Again, thank you for all the interest. Jared, thank you for eventually calling me classy/vauable. I know, baby. Sometimes it just has to be said a couple times…