i bought an ice coffee with a pile of dimes

I just bought an iced coffee with a pile of dimes.

I had asked her if she had any drinks that cost a dollar, she said they didn't, so I first got a madeline for 60 cents.

I did it because I feel bad sitting in there using the internet for free.

She said I didn't have to buy something to use the internet, it was nice of her, but I had read this article once that said only cheap people do that, so yeah, I felt guilty.

I sat down with my madeline and the little white slip with the internet password;

Opened my computer, got out my book.

Then I realized I was really thirsty. So I started counting my change at the table until I got up to 2.10.

Then I put it back in my wallet.

I walked up to the counter and stood there, counting the change I had just counted, trying to get together 1.70.

I was kind of sweating, it was really hot in there, and I had just walked 8 blocks.

The brunette barista could not have had a more impatient look on her face.

I handed her the pile of dimes, and told her it was at least 1.70.

She counted it, dime by dime, and gave me 20 cents back

I felt like a homeless person

so I put the 20 cents in the tip jar.

when she wears her prettiest dress;

Tonight she will take a long warm bath,
soak in the milk suds and breathe aromatherapy.
She will shave the stiff thick hairs from her legs
and manicure between her arms and thighs.
Then she will rub lotion on her elbows
belly, back, neck, calves, knees.
She will dry her long blonde hair
and part it oh-so-carefully.
She will paint her toes an ominous gray
and clip her fingernails just so,
then line her large gray eyes so thick
and mascara her lashes with a blackened stick.
She will slide into her lacy underpants
and clasp a small black bra,
then shimmy into a ruffly shift
and slip her stockinged feet into the shoes that fit.
She is wearing her prettiest dress tonight
to do no more than dine on fish at home,
but how she loves to sit in red high heels at her table
and enjoy an evening meal alone.

life is like a milkshake.

sucking on a straw,
sipping at the last bit of a milkshake
relishing in the cold, dark, sweet, sugary beverage.
you remember the first sip that tantalized your tounge
the cold rushing to your forehead
the taste overwhelming your buds
the surprise quenching of a secret desire.
you were enveloped in that milkshake.
you thought of how chocolate is your favorite flavor,
raspberry, mint chip or even vanilla would have been fine
but you went with chocolate, your favorite.
the last icy chunks of sugary goodness make their way up the straw,
leaving only the soupy remnants of what once was.
you knew all along it wouldn't last forever,
thats just how it is with milkshakes.