Coffee Shop : Acting Like I Sold You Crack


I work the opening shift at a french bakery most mornings, and I consider it my personal responsibility to help the residents of North Portland start their day right. My regulars are accustomed to hearing indie tunes to ease their reentry into the world of upstanding, working citizens.

But on this particularly cold and gray morning I don't want anyone following Elliott Smith into the void of seasonal depression.


So I think I'll play Jay Z's H to the Izzo. on repeat.

You heard the man, double-caramel-with-whip. "That's the anthem so get your damn hands up."
There you go, mmmhmm. You're welcome.

[french macarons (a.k.a. my breakfast) from bardot in blue]

5 comments:

  1. bahhahaahhahh I love this! And I can perfectly picture pumping your arms and sporting a killa thizz face...

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  2. this makes me so unbelievably happy. and so do you. can't wait to see you this sunday!

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  3. cassy said exactly what i was about to say, minus the seeing you on sunday part as i don't know you. anyway, the things you write of in this blog always make me feel the perfect emotion for that moment, thanks for that.

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  4. Rae - thanks so much for your kind words! I'm glad my silly sense of humor does more than just rudely awaken my coffeshop goers!

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Thank you so much for commenting, Darling Reader! I read + love each and every one of them. (Anonymous commenting has been turned off due to robots)

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