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They say we are all doomed to turn into our mothers; am I turning into my grandmother?

Truthfully the woman I’m referring to isn’t exactly my grandmother, she’s my great-aunt, we simply always call her auntie.  But she played the vital role of grandmother in my eyes, and thus, I always thought of her as one. Hell, my whole family mixes up the proper names, second cousins twice removed become simply cousins, or cousin who are ancient dinosaurs morph into aunts/uncles. Just the other day I was sitting at Noodlecat “Cleveland’s Ramenhouse & Steam Bun Emporium” and I realized something as I was eating the shit out of my Tempura Soba Dori, I was dressed exactly as my auntie would have dressed, and her lady like dinner manners have completely consumed my being.

Mmm, Noodlecat puts heart’s in my eyes.

 I was wearing her classic look; high-waisted jeans, and a striped dress shirt tied right above the pants. Although she never wore jeans, only dress pants, and would rather wear a nice pair of loafers than fancy lady high heels, I looked like a much younger version of her. The complexity is much more than simply the way I dress, it’s the things I’m fond of, the people I’ve befriended, the men I find attractive. It’s all her, maybe her in the 40’s, but her taste all the same. She wasn’t exactly the ideal grandmother figure for everyone, she was extraordinarily proper and judgemental, not all love and sweet thoughts all the time. But she was fucking great, she let me watch pretty woman with her, she had the most magical backyard, and she introduced me coffee at the age of 9. I waited impatiently on the bar stool and couldn’t hide my excitement as she set a flowery teacup on the counter for me, but before I could have a sip she needed to complete it with a chocolate wafer stick. So I tried it, I thought it was the most horrid thing and wanted to spit it out at once, but I didn’t. I knew that coffee was for sophisticated ladies and that’s what I wanted to be, that’s what my aunt was. Of course now I’m a complete slave to espresso all thanks to this woman.

I catch myself using her catch phrases rather often, it’s like major deja vu. She says things full of ridiculousness, such as “oh heavens!” you know, the adorable things old ladies ought to say.

So even if I’m not an exact copy, I’m actually quite content with being a smidge like her.

I’ve been a coffee enthusiast my whole life, it kind of runs in the family.

Prepare for a little barista drama. (Note, this is a pre-Minneapolis post. I am in Cleveland for a few more weeks) Working at a coffee shop (City Roast) located in the Westside Market (Origins of the market date back to 1840. It is Cleveland’s oldest publicly owned market) has only helped my coffee snobbery grow. I am the first to admit that I am quite critical, but I’ve never really thought to criticize someone based on their favorite coffee drinks. Coffee is the trendy thing to drink, coffee shops are the trendy place to be, and barista’s have been enjoying the tips received by these faithful trend followers. So naturally, we try are very best to be understanding. It’s become rather apparent how coffee shops have become a sort of “pre-bar” hangout for anyone who isn’t legal, and that’s completely fine, better there than getting thrown out of some sleazy bar, right?

But here’s the tragedy, when these people get coffee they order some inhumanly sweet blended concoction that hardly even resembles coffee anymore, the two shots of espresso are overthrown by 6 shots of chocolate and filled to the top with half&half. I’ve been observing with my co-workers that it isn’t simply the pre-bar kids ordering these drinks, it’s everyone. To be quite frank, they are delicious! However, they are delicious milkshakes, and they are for drinking in moderation. This shouldn’t be ones “fuck I didn’t have time to make coffee this morning” quick coffee stop drink. Not for everyday, Yuck! How does one drink these calorie packed things and not end up morbidly obese or in sugar coma? Like I said, they are delicious girly fru-fru dirty secret drinks of wonder, to be had on occasion guys!
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       

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