Momnesia

Oddballs

I'm getting more of the Elixer of Life (Diet Coke, breakfast of champions) from the fridge at work when J. comes in.
"We need a new coffee maker now, don't we? Now that we have a big-boy refrigerator," I comment as J. pours himself a cup.
"Yeah, it's been in a bad shape for a long time," he says.
"We should take up a collection. I don't even drink coffee, but I'll throw in some money, just to keep from cleaning up the mess it leaves," I say.
"You're a writer and you don't drink coffee?" he says, in mock horror.
"I know. It's unamerican," I chuckle. "I tried when I was younger, but I pretty much was drinking cream and sugar with a little bit of coffee flavoring - and I still didn't like it."
"Yeah, I drink a coffee milkshake," he said. "But I thought all writers, graphic designers and photographers had to drink coffee," he grins.
"No, that's a graduation requirement that Augusta State waived just for me," I say.
"Well, I'm a musician and I don't drink," he says as we make our way back to the office.
"Me neither," I say. "I guess that means we'll live long and boring lives."