“Do you have decaf?”
“Decaf is ALL I’ve got.” Turns out the Fedex freight delivery folk don’t around here on Fridays and he’s bemoaning the lack of beans to roast.
I’m at Telluride Coffee Roasters in Lawson Hill. Mostly they don’t sell cups, they…duh…roast coffee, but if you catch it just right and they’ve got milk. (sometimes not) the coffee will be great. Fresh.
He’s got milk. I order up my latte. He’s got to fuss a bit with that roaster and all. “I’m going down the street to pick up a loaf of bread at Cindybread, will be right back.”
I am, money in hand, but no progress. “Sorry, I had to take a call.” And then, the first pull is bad, so he starts over. “Would you like some sugar-free vanilla in it? I’ve got the guy at the nursery across the street totally addicted.”
We bemoan the heat, the dryness that’s causing fires and canceling fireworks all over Colorado. Love these occasional interludes, the commonality of conversation with someone you barely know.
Finally, YUM, that coffee with a touch of vanilla, all smooth and delicious. I sit in the car just enjoying it for a moment.
Then I pull out.
Head Slap.
I back up the car, roll down the passenger window and call out.
“I forgot to pay you!”
He laughs. “I thought so, but I was going to give it to you anyway.”
I love this place.
