My rent is so expensive that I can't afford internet access (really), so I steal it from the cafe downstairs in the form of many, many bought lattes. I'm gonna buy coffee anyway. Two birds, one stone--or at least that is how I justify it in my head.
After two days at the DMV, trying to get a New York state-issued ID so that I can fly out of here, I entered the cafe today to be greeted by my favorite barista and a former teacher at Ensworth School in Nashville. (The world, she is so small.)
He: "I haven't seen you for a couple of days!"
Me: "I've been at the DMV."
He: "This whole time?"
Me: "Hardly exaggerating. It took three separate trips."
Me: "Last time I was there I told the gentleman, 'I'm not leaving without that ID.'"
He: "I will occupy this DMV!"
Me: "I am the 1% who needs to get on a plane!"
My co-workers are the best.
Hope my next ones have me taste their smoothies, too.