Hello from the road. I'm sitting here sipping on coffee, writing by the ocean, AKA living the dream, even if only for a few days.
I made friends with the barista at this coffee hut, and I've been gifted many a espresso shot. This blog post is brought to you by caffeine, if the writing does not make sense, blame the caffeine... And the lack of sleep. I've been awake since 4am.
The following are unrelated conversations that took place while I was overdosing on coffee, totally eavesdropping.
"Take a look at this broccoli. It came out of my garden. We are going to make a calzone with it. You'll have to come back for lunch."
"I am from Iowa, grew up in Colorado, now I live in Mexico. I'm here doing the Alaskan adventure. I will go back home in January."
"Do you think the kind of drink people order says something about them?"
"No. It's how they order it. I need versus Can I have. It makes a difference."
"Good morning. I'll take one of your exquisite cappuccinos, and a latte for Rachel, with almond milk."
"Here are your drinks."
"I don't think of them as drinks. I like to think of them as drinkable dreams."
"Can you make a cortado? I want to be as shaky as a chihuahua."
"I call it a meth-cortado. It almost sounds sophisticated."
"If you walk to the end of the spit you should see a lot of starfish right now."
"What's a spit?"
"Do you play that mandolin?"
"Do you know Jeremy Lee? He's my first cousin. I come from Louisiana."
"Are you keeping a ledger here?"
Me: "Yep. Of everyone who walks in."
On an unrelated note, there's fresh Alaskan salmon, fresh veggies, brown rice, potatoes, and flower petals on my dish.
This is heaven, right?