The Coffee Shop Experience

As I push open the old, creaky door and stroll in for my daily dose of caffeine and milk, I inhale the mixed heavenly scents of a coffee shop. The smell of fresh bagels being baked in a warm oven, breakfast biscuits being stuffed with egg and sausage, and of course, the divine fragrance of coffee beans being ground into coffee. I could just picture the barista mixing coffee, cream, and chocolate, handing the drink to me, and Ah! Pure heaven flooding the inside of my mouth, filling me with chocolate espresso deliciousness. I lick my lips and walk over, gazing at the teasing artwork of coffee decorating the walls. As if I forgot why I was here. Pfft. Fake plants reside in the edges of the coffee shop and advertisements for various products line the wall above them. I walk past the tables when SMACK! 

I look at the person I bumped into, a woman in her mid-thirties wearing a dull, gray sweatshirt and jeans. So much for fashion... She glares at me and I mutter a quick sorry. Just then, an evil thought dawns on me. I lean out and see a horrendous sight in front of her: a line! And not just a small line with only two people, no, this is the longest line I had ever seen! Curling around a corner and snaking its way toward the door, I solemnly check the line again, rubbing my eyes and checking to make sure that this monstrous wait is in fact real. I give a quick silent prayer before a gruff, mean voice grumbles, 

"Are you going to get in the line?" A wave of dread drowns me. A decision. Will I risk it and join the group of unhappy, sleep-deprived people who have been waiting for hours or try to survive a day with out my warm, milky delight? While the people shuffle towards the counter, I stand there pondering my options over and over. Can I actually live without coffee? What if I die without it? What if I'm late? What if- 

Suddenly, before I can make my decision, I bolt upright, sweating and panting, in my bed. At home. As I angrily groan and groggily rub my eyes with clammy fists, I squint at something bright red. My eyes focus on a little round box on the small table next to me. The clock reads: 6:59. Not too late! I grin and hop out of bed, a minute early. I quickly cancel my alarm, try to untangle my long, wispy, straw-colored hair, and fly out the door, nearly forgetting my wallet. As I jump into my car, I crank up the radio, feeling great. I bounce down a tiny vein of a road and sing along to some old 80's tunes until I pull off the tiny road and to my stop. I glide into a parking spot located right next to the door, the same old creaky door as in my nightmare. I swing it open, full of joy, then smile.