Saturday, November 23, 2013

Mint Coffee Anyone?

I like to begin my day with a cup of coffee and a pastry. The cafe next door is very convenient and obliging. I take my coffee mug down to them and they give me a double order of coffee with steamed milk and I choose the pastry I want them to heat up. I pay them and then I carry my breakfast up to my apartment for a relaxing start to my day. Simple. But lately, things haven't been going too smoothly.

Invariably, Mustapha is standing outside when I emerge from the building and insists that he get my breakfast for me. Now Mustapha has told me time and again that I can simply call him and he will come up for the money and then do the schlepping for me. Sometimes I take him up on his offer but invariably I don't get the pastry I want. I really like the warm almond croissants and no matter how I try to pronounce almond, I get a plain or a chocolate croissant instead. Unheated. No big deal but I want what I want and rather than risk embarrassing Mustapha I do what I always do --- take matters into my own hands. But with stoic regularity, Mustapha stands outside the entrance to my apartment, waiting to help and make a few dirham in the process. I can't seem to refuse him and I guilt myself into offering him some small change for his service. Oh he declines the first time I offer a tip but the second offering is accepted with a winning smile. It's all a problem of my own making, I know. But the extra money is adding up and I'm just not getting through to him that I want a hot almond croissant.

Yesterday the routine continued. This time I was pretty sure I conveyed I wanted a 'croissant amande' in my best French accent. Mustapha speaks French. But when Mustapha returned to my doorstep with the beautifully arranged tray with my coffee mug covered in aluminum to preserve the heat and paper napkins arranged just so and plain, unheated croissants, there was something extra on the tray. A small pitcher that Mustapha was keen to point out was being offered at no extra charge. Inside the pitcher was a bright green liquid that I later discovered to be mint syrup. I reasoned my head cold made my pronunciation of almond come out to sound more like mint. Maybe. Peut-etre. I poured the mint down the drain and resolved to go out and purchase a jar of instant coffee for the next morning. I guess I can do without the pastry.




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