She sits across from me in all her purpleness. Same table, same drinks on the table. Each and every day the same. Three drinks each day at 11:45A.M. – one venti caramel frappucino, one venti mocha with whip and one grande iced coffee. She isstrange. The drinks, ordered together, sit on the table slowly being sucked dry as the old woman holds court at her two-seater, window, table for hours. She is strange, arriving at the local McDonald’s version of a coffeehouse referred to as Starbucks on her purple beach cruiser bicycle that is seriously tricked out in some sort of senior dementia version of MTV’s Pimp My Ride.
The Tuxedo Archives: Vol. 2013
, Article 17.
Available at: https://scholar.dominican.edu/tuxedolit/vol2013/iss2/17