I need my coffee, they say

“Oh we don’t drink coffee,” my dad must have said to my cousins who were staying at my parents’ house a few years ago.

A hunger grew in their eyes and they took the rental car to the downtown of the suburb. Fortunately for them, Starbucks had already spread to every block in the suburb. But they’re Asian. Every morning it was a constant search for the black warm liquid. They’re not white like a coworker of mine who presents a new organic coffee bean every other week at work. Spamming the entire company, he shakes the bags of coffee beans in triumph. Coffee.

I don’t need coffee. In fact, I often roll out of bed to whatever I am doing that day. I usually hunt for orange juice at work, but if there’s none, I would settle for a banana. Then the day begins.

But what would happen if I started taking showers in the morning? Like every other white person I know. Is hot water on my face not enough than the buzz from the ugly dark liquid in a Styrofoam cup?

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