Location: Portsmouth, en route to Middlebury, VT
When: January 22, 2005, 8:30 am
Coffee: Port City Coffee Roasters Capone
We were running late but I lied to Jessie about Port City being right off the Interstate, and there being a gas station right there. It was more like a five minute drive, at least, and I didn't know for sure that there was a gas station anywhere near by. It turned out okay, though. I'd misremembered, and gotten us off at the wrong exit, and after a minute and a half of pretending I knew exactly where we were, there it was. Port City. And there really was a gas station nearby. So I got my coffee, and we got the gas we needed, and Jessie is none the wiser that I am the kind of man who is willing to lie to the woman he loves if it means getting what he wants.
Right then what I wanted was coffee. Not just any coffee. Port City coffee. It had been a few years since I'd had it, and didn't know if it was still as good. Results were inconclusive from the cup I had that morning because it was so cold out (-16 F) that just the walk from the shop to the car turned the coffee tepid. It was okay though. I bought two bags of coffee there, Capone and Indian Malabar. I had no doubt that they would bring joy soon. I opened the bags and breathed deeply, the wonderful smell flooding my body with deep contentedness.
Then it was on to Vermont, a long drive into the mountains. The Camry's heater just wasn't up to the task of fighting such cold, and the car never warmed up. We shivered and were cranky and swearing and fighting and being overly dramatic just to fight off the cold.