You’re Still Waiting for Your Cup of Coffee

T.S. Lowry

It’s probably cold by now…

Photo by Izzy Gerosa on Unsplash

It’s morning. You hate mornings. But you have to catch a flight. You have to see your family. It’s a privilege — you know that. So is being able to afford a plane ticket, and having the ability to visit your hometown for two weeks.

You call an Uber…

You arrive at the airport.

You breeze through security and find a seat by your gate.

You sit down and work on an article. This isn’t a work-free vacation — they almost never are.

Although you’re still melting in withdrawals from the drinks you had last weekend with your friends, and the CBD you took isn’t doing shit, you believe today will be a good day.

Your flight is a little delayed. No worries. It’s still leaving today.

Boarding starts. You wait until Group 5 is called so you can get on the plane…

You find your seat. You paid extra to sit next to a window, but not like extra-extra — you’re still one of the last rows.

You sit down. Boom. Nailed it. Music on. Time to relax…

A family, consisting of two children, a husband, and a wife, boards late. Their flight was supposedly canceled the night before — and it probably was — so they can’t all sit next to each other. They stand by your aisle. They don’t panic.

The man is so sure the flight attendants will put his happy little family together, although it was just announced, once again, that the flight is full.

The lady sitting in the aisle of your row offers her seat so the dad can sit next to his daughter, who occupies the middle seat.

“No, it’s fine,” he says. “I already told the manager and they’re working on it.”

He’s so confident the “manager” will solve this issue because he’s probably had everything handed to him. Or asked for things and received them. He’s white, tall, and handsome.

The manager doesn’t solve the problem which makes sense since the flight is full, as in all of the seats are booked. The lady on the aisle moves. She probably paid extra for an aisle seat. It’s OK, she’s super nice — she’s probably used to giving up her seat by now.

The family gets to sit next to each other, with only the aisle separating them. They were originally scattered throughout the back of the plane. Two willing and kind passengers gave up their aisle seats. They now reside in middles.

The plane eventually takes off. But not before the man takes a business call on the runway. It’s fine. He’s important. He had to answer the call. He’s laughing, but it’s an important call because he says so. No one questions his judgment. Despite the fact that phones were supposed to be turned off or set to airplane mode by now, no one tells him to hang up.

He finishes his call. Shortly after, the plane takes flight. His timing is impeccable.

Fuck it, you still have a window seat, that you paid extra for. You’re crabby (more sassy than usual, in fact), but didn’t have to move and need to mind your own business.

Snacks are served. Drinks follow. You order a black coffee. The attendant proceeds to give the man a cup for his pretzels. A fucking cup for his pretzels. (To really piss off some people, the cup is made out of plastic.)

The daughter spills her chips on you, which you don’t mind because kids spill things — it’s what they do. She leaves the bag on the ground and the dad doesn’t bother to pick it up. The dad doesn’t give a shit. Someone else will pick it up (you pick it up at the end of the flight, and the dad made sure to point it out, but you’re the one who picked it up…). The girl gets her juice. The man his black coffee.

In reference to the cup: You’re not the PC police and understand what’s wrong now might not have been wrong a few years ago and it also takes people time to adjust to all these new social norms and rules. Our society is all about pointing out the wrong and eating its people alive.

Somehow, even though you were the first to order in your row, you’re skipped over.

Five minutes pass. You don’t want to say anything yet. After all, people make mistakes and when they’re pointed out for these mistakes, you’re somehow the dickhead.

“We’re making a fresh pot of coffee just for you,” you picture the attendant saying while jabbing ‘just for you’ into your side like a knife and making sure everyone around you hears … even though he didn’t actually say that and is only saying that in your mind to make you look like a self-entitled millennial. Kids these days…

Continuing to live in your head, you think… These people don’t know the first thing about me or my struggles and vice versa, but I know how the world portrays 20-somethings, especially when they’re wearing Bose headphones and Ray-Bans.

Five more minutes pass.

Then 10.

They definitely forgot your coffee.

Crumbled into the corner because the daughter won’t stop hitting you and worried she’s going to spill her apple juice on you, you say fuck it in your mind — apparently, you’re the captain of the fuck-it train this morning. You turn up your fuck-the-world song (“Doses and Mimosas” by Cherub) and sit back.

At this point, you sound like an asshole. But you’re tired of the same type of people always winning. You’re tired of reading about people who write about how they make tens of thousands of dollars a month writing a handful of articles a week when you write a handful every day and barely get by... or something to that effect.

All you want is a cup of airplane ass coffee.

But you’ll be in the Rockies in an hour. You’re about to see your mom for the first time in a year. So you drop everything. You’re no longer mad. You know your mom won’t forget your cup of coffee.

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Just a guy who likes to cruise the aisles at the local 7-Eleven

Los Angeles, CA

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