Several years back, before cappuccinos and mochachinos and caramelattes became the “in” drinks of choice for my generation, I used to get my flavored coffee fix from the local convenience store. Sure, the cappuccino machine just spat out hot water half the time, and the flavors were usually limited to Vanilla and Out of Order, but when it did work – it was a real treat, and cheap too.
There was always an older gentleman there, sitting in one of the mock cafe booths, watching the world pass by while sipping on a large coffee. It seemed like kind of a ritual for him. If there wasn’t any fresh coffee when he came in, he would calmly ask one of the cashiers if they could make some when they had a spare moment. He was kind, considerate and well-liked. Most of the time.