Anthony had the most angelic set of kinky golden curls I’d ever laid eyes on. All it took was one compliment on them and his magenta blush and I was in, set for life. We quickly developed a special relationship: I was a junkie and Anthony was my dealer.
I was addicted to organic, fair-trade coffee, and he brewed the best espresso on the Upper West Side.
“Girl, you know I love you, but if I were a real bartender, I would have cut you off weeks ago. Do you have any idea how much you spend here?” I appreciated his concern, but I was in a hurry for class and he was taking his sweet time topping off my latte and counting my change.
“Ant, just gimme the cup and I won’t tell Madge about those ‘missing’ double-fudge brownies in your handbag.”
The quarter and penny slapped against the stack of “Perks” cards sitting in my wallet. In addition to Anthony’s cafe of employment, I held Coffee Club cards from Whole Foods, a local deli, and another small NYC gourmet coffee chain. Each were one stamp away from my free cup. None were a first-time membership.
I quickly did the math. Ant was right to be embarrassed for me — I was spending, on average, $12 a day for coffee. When I measured my monthly caffeine expenditure against my monthly college student income, I understood why I no longer had a shoe fund. It was time to seek help.
Luckily for me, this economic epiphany coincided with a home-sale at Bloomingdale’s. Rather than quit the bean cold-turkey, I decided to reinvest my coffee stocks.
I bounced home from the Lexington Avenue department store with a french press, a DeLonghi espresso machine with built-in milk frother, a pound of course-ground medium roast, and a can of Lavazza espresso. I was out about $250, but had enough supplies to get me through 3 months of caffeine consumption. Despite accumulating some credit card debt, in the long haul, I was scheduled to come out ahead.
I knew Anthony was going to miss me, but Gary, the shoe guy at Saks, was glad to finally have me back.
One thought on “Lessons in Conquering Addiction and Smart Investing”
I’ve been in your boat. Whenever a hot guy asks me, on the street, if I have a minute for the environment, I want to respond, “I have a minute for YOU, lover!” But instead I get all, like, misty-eyed about the tuna getting caught in the dolphin nets or whatever it is and throw money at Green Eyes from Greenpeace, whose commitment to the organization is probably about as strong as my own (that is not say, not very). Le sigh.
Don’t forget: they told you to find a rich husband, and once you have one, you’ll have all the money you need to flirt with sexy baristos.
…What, is that bad or something?