I just wanted a coffee. Would I like to try their newest brand imported through Justice for Poor Coffee Pickers (unlimited) who are paid proper wages (local rates) at the organic Chikkamagalur, 100 per cent non-Genetically Modified plantation in the hills of India’s Karnataka region?
No. Thank you. Just our regular coffee then? Yes.
Space for milk? Yes, please. For here or to go? To go? To take away. (Sometimes American has to be translated, just to be sure). Oh. Having it here.
Want anything with it? A muffin, please. Blueberry, Lemon, Raspberry? Blueberry. Heated? No thank you. (Do they really heat muffins?).
Have you a loyalty card? No. Would you like one? It means you’ll be guaranteed a free cup of coffee sometime before you die? No matter how long you live?
No. Thank you.
We could include you in our loyalty scheme online? No need to carry any card that way? No.Thank you. I just want a cup of coffee.
So no loyalty card then? No. Even online? No.
Your name? Pat. ("Patsy" involves a whole other interrogation). Did you say Pat? Yes. (So rare in Ireland you must say it twice).
Address? What? Telephone number? Email address? Occupation? RSI Number? Married? Partner’s name? Children? Names? Doctor’s address? (Okay. I just made that last bit up but am always prepared. Just in case).
Anything else? No. Thank you.
That will be X euro Y cent. Thank you. Your coffee can be collected over there with the milk (whole, half, skimmed) and tissues.
(Sounds like the name of a sad, alcohol-free pub – The Milk and Tissues).
One waits patiently for the mug of guilt-free, noted-contributor-to-the-developing-world coffee to arrive. It does, with the name “Matt” scrawled in black marker on its glossy white surface, touching lip level.
Would you mind removing the name, please? Why? It’s not carcinogenic? It’s at lip level (Tempted to ask whether the marker is organic too, I remember that restraint is the better part of most things).
I’m sure that’s true but I really don’t want black marker on my lips. And so “Matt” disappears the way of all ink and I am free, free at last to have a cup of coffee. Woe to ye who make a tyranny of choice.
Choice from Middle English chois, from Old French, a derivative of choisir to choose
inaword@irishtimes.com
