I had to run some errands the other day, and I stopped into UBC Coffee afterwards for a cup of almost-coffee. Eating alone in restaurants is a weird guilty pleasure of mine. I really like it, but I also think it’s kind of antisocial, and it makes me worry that I’m crossing the line from slightly quirky into actively eccentric and from there? It’s just a slippery slope down to crazy old lady.
Anyway, I read my book with a cup of semi-coffee and some kind of fruit-filled almost-pastry. UBC is chain of close-to-Western food, and although I’ve adjusted to Chinese food better this year, I just can’t curl up with a novel and a bowl of dan chou fan. Plus they have really comfy couches, which makes up for what they lack in American ambiance and culinary pursuits. Sometimes a girl needs a little of home comforts, even if that’s a cup of almost-coffee.
I left the coffeeshop after I felt suitably recharged, and ready to face the laowai-shouting world again, and I starting walking towards the subway stop.
Not even one block down, I saw a real live Starbucks.