The Search for a Late Night Coffee Fix

After my sister took a bite of her velvet chocolate cupcake she took a sip from her iced caramel macchiato.

"This is pretty good," said Nancy.

My carrot cupcake and mocha frappuccino was also delicious; Starbucks wasn’t my preferred coffee place, but was nevertheless there for us at a time of need. Our unfailing fall back plan.

The night slightly, but not remotely close, felt like a cheap re-make of Harold & Kumar go to White Castle.

At about 9 p.m. our plan was to head to True Love Coffeehouse on K st. and obtain a cup of their tasty mint mocha frap. We were giving it a second chance.

True Love had undergone some remodeling to house a Mediterranean eatery. It wasn’t the same after the make over. Like a case of plastic surgery having gone terribly wrong.

It was September 13th. A second Saturday, which meant only one thing.

My sister drove down J st. at about 10-15 m.p.h., due to traffic of course. The sidewalks were packed with people. Mainly art enthusiasts walking in and out of shops and galleries displaying various types of art.

A live band was performing on a platform attached to a trailer.

This night was unlike anything we had ever experienced in midtown. Probably because we don’t get out much, but that’s beside the point!

A lady had hopped out from the passenger’s seat of a neighboring vehicle on 20th and J. Boy was she trashy. She had on a pink strapless dress that stopped just slightly below her bare ass. How do you not remember to throw on some underwear before you walk out the door?

Looking at my sister it dawned on me that she wasn’t staring at the skank, but at the reactions on people’s faces as the lady crossed their paths.

"I find it kind of funny how people react to those type of situations," she said, somewhere along those lines.

From my window it was easy to tell who my sister was referring to. The shock on a passerby’s face was unmistakable.

Luckily my sister managed to find parking just around the corner from True Love.

Nothing could have prepared us for what we saw next. We made our way to the white picket fences that bordered the front of True Love. A belly dancer was outside entertaining customers who were sitting at the round iron tables and chairs. Some of them smoking from what appeared to be hookahs.

When it was solely True Love in this white, two-story, possibly Victorian home, we could have entered from ground level and surely wouldn’t have been wierded out by a belly dancer who, by the way, seemed a bit out of place.

We made our way through to the left, up about five steps, a sharp turn to the right and higher up a longer flight of stairs.

Once in line my sister glanced at a sign.

"Are they still only accepting cash?" she asked.

A Barista answered her question.

"There’s an ATM downstairs."

Last time we had to literally find a bank. Now, we were to head back down the stairs and pay a $2.50 fee to dispense cash for two coffee drinks. Who doesn’t accept plastic?

We were defeated. We gave up. Goodbye True Love.

As we finished our Starbucks’ drinks and tasty pastries my sister said, "we need to find a new coffeehouse."

Is it so hard to find a nice coffee shop, besides Starbucks, where we could get late night coffee fixes from?

The search continues.