Seven Grams

There’s a coffee shop around the corner from my work that serves the softest, warmest chocolate chip cookies. They also makes the creamiest iced mocha possible to the palate. The coffee shop is called Seven Grams.

I’m afraid to claim it as my coffee shop, because it’s actually my manager’s manager’s coffee shop. So while I’m over here saving my Starbucks venti plastic cups and reusing them at home just to fabricate the feeling that I bought my coffee, she shows up to work with a cup from Seven Grams every day. Keep in mind, the coffee I make at home makes me want to jump off of a skyscraper. It’s the equivalent of a vodka soda with lime: it does what I need it to, but I’m not enjoying it. Anyways, this isn’t about my coffee. It’s about Seven Grams.

Seven Grams is a bit of a treat to me. If I’m feeling sad, feeling accomplished, or if I find some other various excuse to spend $7 on a coffee, this is where I go. And if you ever go there, please know that I’m the reason they now put plastic lids on their iced drinks.

I was running late to work one morning and said, fuck it, I might as well get a coffee on the way. It was a classic move in high school: “If you’re going to get a late warning, you might as well be as late as possible.”

So I ordered my iced mocha and carried it over to the little desk place where there’s…….. coffee condiments? What’s that about anyways? If I wanted something else in my coffee, I would’ve just ordered it that way. But at these coffee condiment desks, you can add more shit, stir your drink, and garnish your coffee with cardboard slips or weird powders. Seems unnecessary. But at Seven Grams, this is where they also keep their plastic lids. So just to reiterate: the barista will hand you your coffee WITHOUT a lid, expecting you to fend for yourself and get one at the desk.

As I type and relive this stupid insignificant story, I just remember I was upset about something that day. I can’t recall what. But it’s probably for the best since I tend to unload my issues in a really unentertaining way on my private Snapchat story for the 7 people that I have added to it. I went to put a lid on my coffee, but it just wouldn’t fit. And I knew it was the right lid because I order the same coffee every time I go to this place. Hence, I must place the same lid on my coffee each time. But on this particular day, the lid did seem a little thicker than usual. So I pushed it on when suddenly the side of my cup split. Coffee everywhere. Covering my shoes. Spreading across the floor. At the busiest time possible. So like the rational person I am, I figured I’d make matters worse by instinctively crying. The barista pulled the old, “we got a kid who dropped their ice cream” and offered to make me a new one like a sweetheart. But like, it was still embarrassing as fuck.

It was only after the fact that I noticed the lid must’ve been manufactured wrong, because it wasn’t just stuck to a second lid. Yes I can be stupid, but I’m not inherently an idiot. These two lids were inseparable: glued together and created specifically to throw a wrench in my morning.

I share this story for no reason other than the fact that I got an iced mocha from Seven Grams today, and it was delicious. I’ve been twice in the last week. But I did avoid going there from approximately November to February out of self-disgust. Please be happy for me, as I have finally overcome my fears and returned to my manager’s manager’s favorite coffee shop.