David Knows What’s Up: Hold Your Hot Drinks Like A Man
David Knows What’s Up:
Hold Your Hot Drinks Like A Man
By: David Marchese
It’s warm in New York City today. Not shorts warm, but let’s just say I thought about not wearing my jacket when I left my office to get a coffee from the fancy java joint near where I work. I hate drinking fancy coffee — it always tastes a little like pee. I usually get my joe from a street cart. The guy there knows how I like it: a triple double double. That’s double-cream double-sugar times three. I don’t even think they have cream at the fancy place. They got soy juice or whatever.
But they do got a fine looking part-time barista. She looks like she’s into tabouli and Fleetwood Mac. She reminds me of Kirsten Dunst. I don’t mind stopping in for a minute every afternoon and stammering out an order while I try not to be obvious about ogling her and scan her eyes for a sign that she’s into me. And that’s what I was doing just a minute ago when I looked over my shoulder and saw this other girl dressed up in a shawl and Uggs drinking her coffee with two hands on the mug. Holy mother that’s annoying. Who does that? Maybe—MAYBE—if you’re in a log cabin and it’s Alaska and it’s December, you can get away with holding your drink like you think it’s warming your soul. Otherwise, handles are there for a reason. It’s phony baloney not to use them.
Speaking of hot drinks, someone told me that “chai” is Indian or Sanskrit or something for “tea.” So when you’re ordering a chai tea you’re really ordering tea tea, like couscous or ahi ahi. I hate saying food names that have the same word twice. Why not just call it cous or ahi? What’s the point of the repetition? It’s just to make it sound exotic. Branding, yo. Similarly, I never eat foods whose names sound like “pooh.” Poutine, pupusas, anything included on a pu pu platter — I’ll have the chicken fingers please. Seriously, people are such snobs about food. It’s enough to make a man lose his appetite.
Once I ate eleven slices of pizza.