Cora was running late.  It was sunny, and it was Saturday.  It was almost above zero, and her friends Meaghan and Jessie were waiting for her outside The Wren.  As soon as they got inside the restaurant, Cora looked at the waiter and then looked her friends and said, “I’m in love with that waiter.”  She hugged her two friends a second time and said, “I’m so happy to see you.  You both look so beautiful.  I’m so glad we’re hanging out.”  She had gone to high school with these friends, and now they all lived in Toronto, and they met up once a month for a Sex and the City-esque brunch.  Cora had known them longer than almost everyone else on earth.  The bottomless coffee hadn’t even started yet, but Cora’s veins felt like they were elastic bands, ready to go pinging off in every direction, and then the waiter came over, and Cora ordered a coffee.  She decided to drink it black to impress him.

“If we get married,” said Cora about the waiter.  “We’re going to have very tall children.”  She spun her glass of water around and around on the table then drank it down in three sips.

“Did you see how fast I just drank that water?” Cora asked.  “I should have gotten you to time me.”  And then the waiter came back with the coffee, and Cora tried to make meaningful eye contact with him.  Her girlfriend had broken up with her over a month ago, and now she was DTF.

“I’m DTF,” Cora told her friends.

“What is happening to you right now?” asked Meaghan.

“DTF, it means down to fuck.”  Cora took a sip of her coffee and started laughing.  She knew she was acting like she was on drugs, but she knew her friends wouldn’t mind.  She had known them for over a decade, and they used to hang out with her in Catholic School when she wore bright pink tights and a bright pink tutu under her kilt.  She had given up trying to impress them years ago, and now she could just be herself.  She finished her cup of coffee and listened to a story Jessie told about a bad date she went on two weeks ago.  Then Cora’s future husband came by and brought more coffee, and Cora told him she wanted to drink so much coffee her heart exploded.

“I’ll make sure to keep it coming then,” he said.

“We’re deeply in love,” Cora told her friends, and then she told them a story she’d already told them before.  It was about the time she went for brunch at her grandma’s retirement home and how her and her brother said they wanted to drink so much coffee they went into coffee comas.  There was an old man drinking coffee across the restaurant from them, and he kept falling asleep in his eggs.  “Coffee coma, coffee coma,” Cora and her brother whispered every time the man’s head nodded, and when the man fell asleep mid-sip of coffee and spilled all over his plate, Cora was also mid-sip and spat coffee all over her dad.  He wasn’t very impressed.Coffee Coma

Cora was running late.  It was sunny, and it was Saturday.  It was almost above zero, and her friends Meaghan and Jessie were waiting for her outside The Wren.  As soon as they got inside the restaurant, Cora looked at her friends and said, “I’m in love with that waiter.”  She hugged her two friends a second time and said, “I’m so happy to see you.  You both look so beautiful.  I’m so glad we’re hanging out.”  She had gone to high school with these friends, and now they all lived in Toronto, and they met up once a month for a Sex and the City-esque brunch.  Cora had known them longer than almost everyone else on earth.  The bottomless coffee hadn’t even started yet, but Cora’s veins felt like they were elastic bands, ready to go pinging off in every direction, and then the waiter came over, and Cora ordered a coffee.  She decided to drink it black to impress him.

“If we get married,” said Cora about the waiter.  “We’re going to have very tall children.”  She spun her glass of water around and around on the table then drank it down in three sips.

“Did you see how fast I just drank that water?” Cora asked.  “I should have gotten you to time me.”  And then the waiter came back with the coffee, and Cora tried to make meaningful eye contact with him.  Her girlfriend had broken up with her over a month ago, and now she was DTF.

“I’m DTF,” Cora told her friends.

“What is happening to you right now?” asked Meaghan.

“DTF, it means down to fuck.”  Cora took a sip of her coffee and started laughing.  She knew she was acting like she was on drugs, but she knew her friends wouldn’t mind.  She had known them for over a decade, and they used to hang out with her in Catholic School when she wore bright pink tights and a bright pink tutu under her kilt.  She had given up trying to impress them years ago, and now she could just be herself.  She finished her cup of coffee and listened to a story Jessie told about a bad date she went on two weeks ago.  Then Cora’s future husband came by and brought more coffee, and Cora told him she wanted to drink so much coffee her heart exploded.

“I’ll make sure to keep it coming then,” he said.

“We’re deeply in love,” Cora told her friends, and then she told them a story she’d already told them before.  It was about the time she went for brunch at her grandma’s retirement home and how her and her brother said they wanted to drink so much coffee they went into coffee comas.  There was an old man drinking coffee across the restaurant from them, and he kept falling asleep in his eggs.  “Coffee coma, coffee coma,” Cora and her brother whispered every time the man’s head nodded, and when the man fell asleep mid-sip of coffee and spilled all over his plate, Cora was also mid-sip and spat coffee all over her dad.  He wasn’t very impressed.