Fail so hard all the whales wanna find me.
I went on a major thrifting expedition with Kelly yesterday (spurred on by copious apair-andaspare reading) and before we began, in order to keep Kelly alive, we headed over to a small cafe called Neighborhood Grinds.
I’d just began loudly & wistfully wishing I could find a place where the coffee would be served in real cups and mugs instead of the ubiquitous paper cup/plastic lid combination when we walked inside—and my jaw dropped. All of the customers were drinking out of cups & saucers! I near about lost my mind.
The fail in all of it? As I ordered a soy latte (which is pretty uncharacteristic of me, since I avoid soymilk for a number of reasons, and I prefer tea over coffee/espresso drinks) I wasn’t sure if I should ask the barista for a reusable cup. He was on the quiet side and not overly solicitous, and the requisite amount of art-snob. So I didn’t. And I got this:
In retrospect, it is possible that the establishment’s patrons all brought their own cups, which would be pretty dang amazing, but so unlikely I’m more inclined to think they just requested their drinks be made “for here.” Obviously I was exuding a heavy “to go” attitude.
I guess this has proved that on serious step I need to take in this project is to be more consistently vigilant, and being vigilant is not for the faint of heart. So I’ll recycle the lid. When I’m at school & can’t survive another minute without caffeine and I’ve left my stainless steel thermos at home (always) I usually request they don’t give me the plastic lid. But either way the cups are disposable, and I don’t think most cups are compostable. They actually look like they might be lined with wax or (more likely) plastic.
So, lessons learned:
1. Always, always, always ask. Shyness and social anxiety be damned.
2. If they don’t have reusable cups, because you asked, and therefore, know, use your thermos.
3. Remember your stupid thermos.
Let’s see how well I manage this. Pura vida.
p.s. Mouse over Fail Quail FTW.
