Confessions of a Coffee Non-Drinker

If you were looking at my Facebook profile page from 2004-2007, you would have assumed I was a big fan of Starbucks coffee given the large cup that accompanied unlit cigarettes and unhealthy amounts of bronzer in almost all of my photos. Truth is, if you looked inside the cup, you would’ve found water or more likely, Diet Coke. I achieved this high form of trickery due to peer pressure and a desire to look like an Olsen Twin. I’d ask for a spare cup, pour my beverage of choice in, pose for a photo, and *bam*, I was part of coffee culture too.

It’s not like I haven’t tried to like coffee. I always assumed it was one of those things you grow into, like dark chocolate (check) or blazers (check) or cleaning up after yourself (mostly check).

As Willow Smith once proclaimed, “I am me.” I’m not Willow, she probably drinks coffee, but I am me, the coffee non-drinker.

A small selection of things I am tired of hearing:

“We can go somewhere with tea! You drink tea, right?” — Nope, I don’t.

“How do you even wake up in the morning?” — Diet Coke.

“You drink Diet Coke when you wake up?” — Yes.

“That’s really bad for you, you know.” — I had no idea, thank you.

“You just have to get used to the taste.”

“Grow up!”

Invitations that require a lot of navigation and craftiness on my part:

Informal interviews

Meetings with professors

Weekend socializing when you don’t want a meal

Third dates

Mid-day breaks with co-workers

Things I am completely ignorant about:

How to order a latte

What a latte is

Ditto Americano, macchiato, espresso

The sixteen cafes between Bleecker and Mulberry and which one has the best coffee

If it really is “so much better in Europe”

If it’s worth it to buy your own espresso machine

Things I will never experience:

Flirting with a barista

Having my name spelled egregiously wrong on my coffee cup or the subsequent Instagram capture

Pumpkin spice

Hungover Sunday coffee dates

Finding out what my coffee order says about me

Don’t ask me on a coffee date, don’t include me in your 4 pm coffee run. Sometimes 22 is more like 14; I’ll be here with my soda pop and my dark (okay, milk) chocolate. I’m just a girl, standing in front of a Starbucks, asking it to love me.