Coffee Virginity
Miles loses his C-Card
Twenty minutes ago, as we walked aimlessly about downtown, Miles, Andre, and I established that we would head to Nescafe to grab some drinks and kill time in the presence air-conditioning and baristas. Now, as we approach Nescafe, Miles exclaims, “Oh my God- it’s a Nescafe. Why don’t we go there to get coffee?” Andre and I look at him with typical exasperation- he never pays attention during plan-making.
We get seated at an enormous couch somewhere in the back of the place. While Miles scans the menu — Andre doesn’t even bother to open it, firmly set in his belief that he hates coffee and all warm drinks despite never trying any — I scan the interior. It’s decorated with the little Nescafe cups as wall accents, and I note to myself that it’s actually pretty sweet.
Having a totally undeveloped palate for coffee, I pick an arbitrary Nescafe cup from the catalogue. Miles stares at the menu like it’s scratch-and-sniff and he just scratched a shitty smell. When the waitress takes our orders, Miles freezes for a moment before hesitantly asking for a carmelito, or some other vaguely Italian thing.
While we wait, and Andre marvels that the french boy he’s been eyeing got multiplied by two when his twin brother appeared from some place offscreen, Miles admits sadly, “Guys, I’m gonna be honest here: I’ve never actually had coffee before.” “I don’t like coffee. It’s gross,” Andre adds, constructively. “Andre,” I say, “You’ve never had coffee before-” “Yeah, because it’s gross” “-and Miles, I hope you like it. This is a moment dude, once you’ve had coffee, you can never go back.”
This seems to haunt Miles in some way. “I know. This is a big deal. I’m losing my coffee virginity here. I’ve literally gone my whole life with never having it before.”
The coffees arrive in comically undersized little cups. We finish them in maybe two-and-a-half sips. Miles mostly looks confused.
Later, we’re walking pointlessly around downtown again when Miles breaks a silence. “I just- I just can’t believe that I drank coffee. I mean, what am I going to do in the Never-Have-I-Ever game now? I used to be able to say, ‘Never-Have-I-Ever drank coffee,’ and that would get people every time. That was, like, my closer. Now all I can say is, ‘Never-Have-I-Ever habitually drank coffee,’ which is so much weaker.”
“Hold on, man,” I say. “You just lost your coffee virginity. You can’t get that back.” “But, that cup was really small. I don’t even know if I’m going to count it.” “No! You can’t pull the ‘Just-the-Tip’ argument here. You drank coffee, so you lose your coffee virginity, that’s how it works!” Miles pauses for a moment. He looks lost, pensive.“God, I can’t believe that I would give it away at some random Nescafe. I just felt so pressured because that place was so hip, I didn’t want to look like a child and order, like, a hot chocolate.” “I know, Miles,” I comfort him, “It’s ok. Did you see those cups on the wall? They were pretty sweet.”
