Coming from a girl who hates coffee

Snuggled in a plush armchair and sipping my blueberry creme frappuccino, I feel very grown-up. My shoeless feet are tucked into the crack between the cushion and the armchair. I have carefully arranged half of my hair into a sophisticated clip and allowed the rest of it to cascade down my shoulders in all its curly wildness. A flyer for Seattle's annual Bumbershoot festival lies on the table next to me, thoroughly perused.

The blueberry and chocolate flavors have faded and now nothing but whipped cream is traveling up my mangled straw. My friend, Mollee, is ordering her drink, and I sit lost in thought.

I don't drink coffee, and every time I leave a place that serves it, my hair smells faintly of coffee beans. An hour later, I'm still absentmindedly sniffing handfuls of hair to see if the odor has faded. Yet, I find myself meeting friends at these places, due to the cozy, friendly atmosphere--and due to the fact that, unlike me, most people actually like coffee.

Being in college, I've found that "coffee dates" like this are practically an expectation. From no one in particular; it's just what you do when you want to escape school and chat with a friend. At first, it wasn't my favorite way to catch up with friends. I could think of a bunch of places I would rather go than a coffee shop. But the relaxing, collegiate feel won me over after a while.

Mollee ambles over to me, her drink in hand, and I smile reassuringly at her as she apologizes for keeping me waiting. I'm excited to talk to her. We haven't talked since the beginning of the summer, and a lot has happened since. Perfect coffee shop talk.