“Yeah,” Zooey agreed, “Janis seemed more like a latte person.” Fritz rolled his eyes dramatically in attempts that Zooey would see. He pulled out a ring of keys from his hemp bag and struggled to open the door. Fritz and Zooey used their weight to push open the door, in which obviously had not been used for some time.

The room was alive with dust and oddly carried the faint smell of Greek food. Zooey shuffled hurriedly around the shop, looking at chairs and fingering the dark green paint on the walls.

“Groovy!” she shouted excitedly.

“But wait,” she started, “We of all people know next to nothing about running a coffee shop. Sure, we drink coffee as if we were coffee junkies…”

“Inject me,” Fritz said dreamily.

“Seriously,” Zooey said sternly, “We can make coffee in our dandy little dispensers and sometimes I like to get fancy with the cappachino machine, but I never thought I’d actually have to do it for real.”

“As if making coffee for me wasn’t real?!” Fritz gasped dramatically.