My Morning Coffee Run

As most people in Boston do, each morning I journey to either Starbucks, or Dunkin Donuts, or I bring coffee from home, or I get some coffee from the cafe in my school. No matter how it happens, it always happens. I get my coffee, and then my day starts. pexels-photo-888992.jpeg


Many times I go during rush hour, and I try to be quick because clearly the barista’s don’t care, and the people in line behind me have places to go, and I have places to go as well and I don’t want to hold up the line. pexels-photo.jpg


But, many other times, I will go at 9:55, right after my 9 a.m. class, and right before my internship that starts at 10. (The internship is at Channel 7 WHDH, which if you know Boston, you know WHDH is right next to Suffolk, so I’m always right on time, no need to worry.)


This morning it occurred to me how important it is to really be nice, the people taking my order are just that: people! They have feelings, and they care, and they have problems and lives, and they need love too, as important as it for them to be nice to us, it’s important for us to be nice to them.


To my point, I was at Dunkin Donuts this morning getting my Medium Iced Coffee Caramel Swirl with cream and sugar. That is always what I get when I go there. There is one woman in front of me, and she ordered 15 munchkins. The barista started putting them in a bag and she said,

“Can I have a box?”

“Of course, I’m sorry. That’s no problem,” The barista replied. He emptied the munchkins into the box and filled it up a little more.

He handed them over to the woman and rang her up. Right as she was about to leave, he said

“Have a great day Sweetie.”

“Don’t call me sweetie, you shouldn’t call anyone sweetie, it’s just rude,” she said sharply.

He profusely apologized, again and again, and I felt bad for the man, he wasn’t trying to be rude, he was just trying to help her have a good day, and be nice.

She left without saying anything else, that was, after the eye roll.

Then, I ordered and as he was making my drink he said to me, clearly distressed from the rude woman before me,

“I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong.” He went on to say how he felt bad for saying that to the woman, but he didn’t think it was bad, he was just trying to be nice, and do his job well.

“You did nothing wrong, some people are just rude, they don’t care how they sound,” I answered him, trying to help him not feel bad about some woman who clearly doesn’t care about anyone but herself.

“I was never told not to say have a good day sweetie, I was never told that, I even gave her 5 extra munchkins for free.”

“Don’t worry about her, don’t worry, you’re doing a great job. You’re doing great.” I said, and I really meant that.

He then gave me my coffee and I thanked him. He said “Have a great day honey, and I just smiled at him and thanked him one more time.

My whole 4 minute walk to the internship I was thinking about that interaction I just had. Why couldn’t that woman just let it slide? Maybe it did make her uncomfortable, but why couldn’t she just let it slide and not go to that Dunkin Donuts again? We are in Boston, walk 3 minutes and you’ll find another. Why couldn’t she just thank him and walk away, or say you too!? Why did she find it so important to say that at that moment and maybe ruin the rest of his hour?









I truly felt bad for him, but I also felt bad for the woman who is so upset that she feels the need to bring others down. I hope that my life is never that bad that I have to be mean and rude, and I hope that I never make anyone feel like that ever, in any part of my life. I also hope that if there is one thing you take out of this, besides how weird and uncomfortable my coffee run was this morning, it’s that: BE NICE! TO EVERYONE!












pexels-photo-275606.jpegIf you read my page titled “My Favorite Things,” you would see Cities is up there under my list of 10 favorite things. Nothing will ever top Bread, but Cities is up there.


I love love cities. There are a lot of reasons why, and for a long time I was totally OK with saying I loved cities, but never really declaring why. But in September 2015, I started spending more and more time in cities, and I started to realize and narrow down why it is that I have always and will forever be passionate about cities.


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Beautiful night in Boston!


I grew up in a small town, Easton MA to be precise. It’s your typical small town, so I won’t say anything else about it. But, my Mom always took me and my brother to Boston all the time to learn and to explore. She took us to NYC a few times as well. And while my brother was sort of indifferent, I thrived there. I never wanted to leave. I loved the energy, the vibe, the amount of people trying to succeed and follow their dreams. I knew that I wanted to go to a city when I went to college, so that is what I did.


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Just a typical view on my walk to classes!


For a variety of reasons, I lived on campus my freshman year, but then sophomore year I started commuting. I started to become one of the many many many people who came to Boston every day for work, or school. This is when I started to fully understand the culture of this city. Since I had more free time in the city, I started to frequent coffee shops, and libraries, and cute little shops that are original and totally Boston. I would walk through the common or the Public Garden because sometimes I just couldn’t sit in the Suffolk buildings anymore.


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My friend and I out for a walk in the Public Garden


And now I know why I love cities, I spent all that time exploring and trying to understand exactly what it was that made this city so special. And I know, at least I know why it is so special to me.


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Because each morning, the trains start running and the people come flooding in from all directions to their jobs or whatever it is that they are doing. And each morning the coffee shops are swarmed with people from all different directions, and each afternoon the coffee shops are filled with people talking, or reading or working on their laptops. And they each have a different story, a different past, and even a different future, but they are all the same, they come here to do whatever, but they are just trying to succeed and trying their best to be the best, at whatever it is they love.


And in Boston, people aren’t as friendly as they are down south. People don’t talk to each other on the streets unless they previously know each other, they don’t get to know the person behind them in line. But there is a silent feeling of respect that is shared between each person that goes through this city. There is a shared appreciation for each other, without saying a word.


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One of my favorite pictures I’ve ever taken in Boston! The pure excitement, even in the air.


But now I am at the point where when I go to my favorite Starbucks, they already know my order, and I have friends on my train. I know who will be walking in front of me on the sidewalk by the time it is, and the security guard at my work knows me by name.


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Yes, I really did take this picture


Boston is a mixture of college students and working people, tourists and residents, homeless people and people who just come for the day. And each year, on that day when the meteorologists say that it is going to be 70 and sunny, with no breeze, you can count on everyone and their dog coming here to enjoy the well deserved warmth that we have waited so long for. It becomes cold in November and stays cold until the middle of April, but yet, the amount of people living here is rising. And until you experience what it is like to really live in Boston, to really be one of the many people trying to succeed here, and until you recognize how good the sun feels on your face after the months of freezing cold, you won’t be able to understand all that is Boston.


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Enjoying the sun in the Common!