Being a tea lover, actually an addict, last time when I visited a coffee shop, I came out questioning my own every life decision since kindergarten. It felt like the place was possessed by some mysterious creature.
Nothing to take serious. Because, just in the morning, I had finished reading: "Waiting for Godot". So, it was just natural for me at that time.
Since that day, I still consider coffee a danger. Although, it started innocently: a warm mug, a stranger's cake, a dessert and a date which costed me half of my monthly earning. Great! I guess, now, I know the reason behind, "coffee a danger".
To be fair, it was not the coffee's fault. Because, it never asked me to order something so fancy that I had to finger point at the menu, of course, I could not pronounce it. It never insisted that one dessert will be the price of a week groceries.
OH Beloved!
Forget above the dumb money, the capitalist system is having quite an impact on me. The date itself was pleasant, no this "pleasant" is not enough to describe it. Think of a fine, smooth and romantic word yourself, other than the term: Perfect. Moving forward, we had different tastes in almost everything; but we both were flexible beings. We talked about books, movies, why simple crows deserve love, most importantly, desserts should come before the coffee.
My logic is pretty simple: if someone brings you coffe first, you will spend the next minutes staring at the dessert, instead of the person sitting across you. An ultimate psychological torture, isn't it?
Somewhere in the cafe, there was a beautiful DIY cardboard house. Well, I don't know, if I should be calling it "DIY"; because neither of us made it. It was a beautiful showpiece, without idea how it is going to become part of someone else's memory.
And, yes, I also stole a picture of a cake. It was not even ours. Someone nearby was celebrating a birthday, and the cake looked too beautiful to ignore. IF taking photographs without permission were a crime, I am already guilty of it.
Funny how memory works. I do not remember the name of that expensive dessert, which I was bragging about in the beginning. But, I do remember that cardboard - especially those talks we had at that moment.
Perhaps coffee was never dangerous. It simply had the bad habit of making ordinary afternoons impossible to forget.
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Peace 🕊️
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This is my entry for phone photography contest.
