After my wasted morning, I drove back to Hollywood, stopping at my favorite drive-through coffee shop on the way. It always gave me a lift to go there and the coffee was excellent, too. Most importantly, I didn"t have to get out of the car.
"Mornin" sweetheart, how ya doing?"
Joey, a transplanted New Yorker in his late twenties, was so cheerful you"d think he had the best job in the world--or at least he thought he did. Although I knew he called all the girls "sweetheart" (and all the guys "buddy"), hearing it still made me feel special.
he"Doing great, thanks. I"ll have the usual--but can you make it a double? I need the caffeine."
As I waited, the whoosh of milk being steamed and the aroma of fresh-brewed espresso were a symphony for my senses. I inhaled deeply, closing my eyes and s
