Coffee and I have a strange abusive relationship where I really believe it’s not gonna fuck me right up ‘this time’, so I go back to it… then, a few sips in, my heart is racing, I’m sweating, and I can’t keep up with my thoughts. When the mania subsides, I vow we are never ever ever getting back together
But then in a moment of weakness, I yearn for it’s smokey, bitter, soothing warmth and order up an Americano and the cycle starts again
On National Coffee Day, Daniel was in town and went to Parallel 49 to get us ladies some coffee for the ride to the airport.
I guess they asked what names to put on the orders and they clearly couldn’t understand Daniel’s indecipherable Goulds accent when he said “Jennah with an H”