Mislaid but not Lost

I'm up in my whining, and behind in recounting my adventures in being a Midwestern Girl. I got a bit dizzy just now (I'm home sick from work and am finally putting my stuff to rights) so I'll type a bit and then get back to it.

Swapfest Coffee

The story of my Swapfest coffee dates from the last surreal week I spent working on my thesis. If I hadn't made a note of it here, I probably would have forgotten it entirely. I had been working in SIPB, and it was cold and early in the morning. I decided nothing in the world would be better than Ritazza French Vanilla Creme vending machine coffee. I gathered up my money and went down to the CoffeeHouse (now home to nothing save SaveTFP and some depressed vending machines), but the CoffeeHouse was locked. I continued down to Verdes, only to discover it was 20 minutes before Verdes would open. A man -- and I can't describe what he looked like anymore except that he was short with dark hair and a Boston accent, and he reminded me a bit of Bonk, which is to say of Tommy Lee Jones -- was similarly disappointed by the failure of Verdes to be open. You can spot a coffee addict who's jonesing for a fix; well, if you've ever been a kindred soul. There's a certain hunch to the shoulders, a twist to the brow. This man had the look, as I'm sure I did. We exchanged pleasantries (mostly swearing) about how nice it would be if Verdes would open so that we could get coffee. He asked me where else might be open, and I told him about the only other source of sweet, hot and nourishing caffeine that I could think of -- Munchies.

Then he left the student center. And I left as well, deciding that hot coffee was going to be far superior to flat Coke. On a lark, I ran to catch up with him, and we chatted on the walk north up Mass Ave. I didn't know his name and he didn't know me from Eve. Eventually I remembered that Sam's Luncheonette might be open (I mean, Sunny's Diner) and we made our way there (conveniently next to Munchies). But Sam's was closed. I was fine with bad gas station coffee, but this guy wanted a proper cup of the black stuff. We chatted for a bit about where other places to find coffee might be, when he metaphorically slapped his head and said, "Of course!" And said that there would be coffee at the parking garage.

Parking garage? I started weighing my options -- like how he probably had 20-30 lbs on me. My father gave me a healthy paranoid streak and, in return, I regularly give him heart palpitations by purposefully overturning caution for faith in basic human goodness. But there's still that moment of decision...

This man, he seemed honest and nice and we were having a good conversation (about Rush, Cambridge, Boston and MIT and, of course, the different kinds of engineering we did) so I took him at his word. There would be a man selling coffee and donuts at one of the MIT parking garages. And so we walked back, South along Mass Ave, then East on Vassar, then across the railroad tracks to where a table had been set up outside of the parking garage and a man was selling coffee and Dunkin' Donuts. The parking garage! Now it was my turn to slap my head -- which I really did. This was SwapFest.

This guy was a vendor at SwapFest -- otherwise known as the MIT Flea, and also something I'd never been to before. Despite the fact that I love crufting hardware; I hadn't had the money as an undergrad. But there we were. He'd come full-circle (when he'd made his way to Verdes, he'd completely forgotten about the Swapfest coffee guy) and I'd gone on a pleasant detour. We chatted a bit more, bought coffee, exchanged names, made our goodbyes, and I took my coffee back to SIPB and resumed work on my thesis. By that time, Verdes was open, but my coffee was better on account of how I got it.

And that is the story of my SwapFest coffee. Maybe it's time for a small snack and setting up my stereo. Nice, light labor.