Category Archives: One minute read

Me no workie well in coffee shop

My life has recently consisted largely of spending time in Cilantro, an upscale coffee shop/café/place to get wi-fi. Despite the large number of pounds I have spent here, I feel my time has not been well served for the following reasons, in addition to the basic fact that I don’t work well in coffee shops.

1. I order a latte and get hopped up on caffeine which makes me jittery, nervous, paranoid, and prone to distraction.

2. I am surrounded by people that I want to stare at and/or talk to.

3. There is a window that I want to stare at.

4. Cars are honking and the wind is blowing and these things are distracting

5. I drink my latte too quickly and then it feels like I’ve done everything I want to do, resulting in restlessness and procrastination of everything I’ve remembered I have to do

6. I forget to check my to-do list because I’m distracted.

7. I feel continually underdressed. I will never fit in clothing-wise anywhere except for gas stations in the south or christian potlucks hosted at apartments.

8. I go with people I know and have conversations with them. After each conversation I’ve completely forgotten what I was doing, where I am, and what my name is.

9. I feel guilty because I’m not speaking Arabic/doing anything with Arabic. The weight of the guilt makes it impossible to get anything done.

10. The internet doesn’t work.

A good part of coming here is partaking in the wisdom of previous Cilantro customers, some of which is written on the wall in faux-graffiti style. One lovely patron said the following gem: Sometimes you love someone somewhere in sometime; which you can’t do anything 2 stop it….but it exists.

But what do you do if that person is not “real?” Or if he’s Conan O’Brien? I NEED TO KNOW MORE!

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Still at the airport

My flight to New York has been delayed 75 minutes, leaving me with a scant hour and 15 minutes to make my connection at JFK.

In the meantime, I’ve facebooked and emailed everyone I possibly could, finally resorting to opening up my nook to begin reading. It feels so productive it’s disgusting, but I also recognize that I am now superior to other airport patrons who are drooling as they read their cosmopolitans.

For dinner: an egg and cheese on croissant from Dunkin’ Donuts alongside a small coffee with milk and one splenda. Why did I ever consider getting anything else? In what world would I actually enjoy some kind of Chinese sludge or Italian cheese and crust balls instead of my sweet, faithful Dunkin Donuts. I’m sorry I ever doubted you.

I hope I get to New York. I hope I make my flight. If not, I’m staying with Rodney Roth and his mom.

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At the airport

Turns out you need a visa to go to Egypt. I had a mild panic attack when it seemed there was some trouble with the fact I didn’t technically “have” one of these. However, I reassured the nice gentleman that I would be able to get one in the airport once I was there and gently laughed away his insistence that I would need one for longer than thirty days. “I can just get it renewed….” I chuckled.

So I got through eventually, but not before bundling up my curtains, sheets, and hangers and stuffing them into a trashcan, a direct result of the fact my bags were a little heavy. On the bright side, whatever I buy in Cairo to replace these things will probably be resplendent with all kinds of gold thread and flowers.

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