Gas Station Coffee

Who knew.

That it requires of a person a PhD to operate a gas station coffee machine.

My question to the kind counter help:

“Does that machine do windows too?”🫤

(Windex windows.)

(Not Gate’s windows.)

None the less.

Confusion overtakes my sensibilities.

So did the awesome smell of the beans when I walked in.

The problem:

Where in the world do I put the cup?

I embarrassingly look left and look right.

Speaking soothing words under my breath.

”You can do this!”

Also asking,

”When did I become so non “worldly”.

When did brewing become so sophisticated. I really must get out more.

I consider for a moment to just pretzel the upper torso of my body under the spicket and consume my addiction straight down my pie hole.

My caffeine withdrawl headache is coming on. Fast.

Usually, at this time of the day, a half a carafe has been consumed.☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️

Stubbornly I refuse to ask the fine gas station attendants. Surely they have better things to do. Than to help an idiot figure out an idiot-proof Java machine.

I am beginning to break out in a hot sweat.

There are so many buttons and yet, there is no coffee manual attached to the machine to guide me through the process.

“I am a college educated individual with half a brain-becoming less alert by the minute—as I talk myself into or out of pulling the trigger and attempting a cup. A cuppa.

Pretty soon, I say to myself that I will be charged for a parking ticket for the parking space I am taking up.

Hot sweat coming on.

So is dizziness.

Feeling like I had better get this brown liquid stuff over the lips and through the gums sooner rather than later.

I dive right in.

Good news.

Some buttons pushed, result in no action at all.

O.k. Good.

Good news.

No one is waiting in line behind me, so no pressure to perform my coffee making skills.

Although. I really could use a tutorial. A kind of shadow of another coffee drinker in the same coffee boat as me. A customer who knows the ropes and is familiar with this intimidating steel-like machine.

In my distraction.

In my focused way,

I drop my cup.

Good news.

There was no coffee in it.

Yet.

I hope.☕️

Soon.

So I take a step back and assess the monster-like machine. The machine testing my every nerve at this moment.

Good news.

I am not in an attention seeking area of the gas mart. Which can be a bad thing too.

What if I burn myself?

Clearly, at this time, the chances of that happening 🥵 are low.

Ok.

Now.

Perhaps this machine is written in “coffee speak”…..that is doe not speak English. There is no on/off switch. Just a bunch of symbols that look as if they are drawn by a kindergartner.

”Come on”, I tell myself. If a kindergsrtner can write the directions on the machine, how pathetic are you that you cannot find the “on” button.

Hot sweat.

I drop my cup again.

Thank goodness, there is still no coffee in it.

Always the positive thinker, that’s me,🙂

I have two options:

Walk away.

Start pushing buttons.

I choose the former.

I have a mini huddle with myself and my empty cup, a sort of coffee pep talk. We have all decided that we are in this together. So. I look left, look right and take a giant step forward.

Face to face with the metallic, steel machine.

Face to Face.

And I am going to win.

I place my empty cup under the spicket.Nothing. No noise.No blinking lights, no bells or whistles. I see delicious pictures I did not notice before.

Ok. now we are getting some where.

Beautiful, beautiful pictures of delicious cups of coffee.

I am encouraged.

But still craving.

And the headache is sounding louder and louder.

May be its simply my heart pounding out of embarrassment that I begin to think this machine is secretly laughing at my ineptitude.

I say to myself, “Maybe I should just give it a kiss, an honest token of friendship.

Nothing. Nada.

Through the pounding headache, I hear a voice ask, “Can I help you with that”.

I reply, “No, No, No. Thank you, I got this. Have a nice day.” I say. I step aside in an attempt to be a big person and allow them to go before me. Then maybe I can shadow their coffee making skills, shadow them without their knowledge. The customer smiled, walked past me and went to the fridge to chose a Red Bull instead. They seem perfectly happy and skipped along on their way.

Not to be discouraged.

I stepped back up to my metallic new monster friend.

And just started pushing buttons.

Nothing.

So I began to wave my hands in and around the buttons of this coffee hoarding jalopy. Looking absolutely ridiculous, no doubt.

Then all of the sudden.

Something happened.

Water began pouring from the spicket.

I thought I had just struck gold.

I peaked into the cup.

Yes. The water was brown.

Good news.

O.K. good.

I looked left and looked right.

Still all by myself with my new best friend made of metallic steel and buttons. I swear it was now smiling back at me too. I say to myself, “I think it liked that you waved to it🫵🏻😃” That’s what did it. My new coffee machine friend just wanted a little hello. No kiss, No stroke. Just a friendly wave around all of its buttons and off to coffee heaven I can go.

Wow.

Who knew.

Definitely not me.

Next.

I look at my new coffee BFF and search for a lid. Not wanting to get too familiar with it, I start looking around it for a lid. None hanging off the side, top or back. O.k. I ask him. “Where ya hiding’ the lids?”

As if in sign language my eyes are drawn down the counter and there they are. Stacked and ready to be taken🙂.

So I gently take one lid so as to not disrupt the next one. I turn back to my metallic coffee friend and raise my cup in respect to our discovery experience together that day.

As a got back to my car, and started to drive away. I remembered.

I forgot to get gas.