Signs of Life

My free cup didn’t have whip cream. Sigh. Maybe I’d have drunk it if it did.

(Photo credit: Scott Beale / Laughing Squid)

Having woken up late (per the usual), skipped breakfast and hair washing (sorry, aesthetics), I was flying to work one day last week when I realized that I wouldn’t make it through my morning meeting if I didn’t get something to eat.

So I breezed into an upscale chain bakery that happened to be en route.

Me to Cashier: I’ll have one of those buttery, quiche-y, egg-and-spinach-y things to go.

Cashier: Comin’ up! Would you like a cup of coffee with that? We’re giving away a small cup of coffee with the purchase of buttery, quiche-y, egg-and-spinach-y things!!!

Me (desperate for a cup of coffee, but having just spied the stack of Styrofoam to-go cups from which, on (health) principle, I do not drink): No, thanks. I’m okay.

Cashier (undeterred): C’mon it’s free! I’ll get you a cup!!

Me (lying): No, no. I’ve had too much this morning already. But, thanks.

Cashier: Nonsense! There’s no such thing as too much caffeine — and it’s free! Here! Here’s your free cup! Take it, it’s free!

Me: . . .

Cashier (beaming): . . .

This free cup of coffee should have made my morning, right? Been a bright spot in an otherwise routine day? I mean, what kind of loser gets depressed when they get something for free?

Well, I was depressed. So by my own logic I concluded I was a loser and just got on with my commute. But later I thought about it more, and something dawned on me: right from the start, my free cup of coffee was far from free.

First off, the cup was made of polystyrene foam, a dangerous synthetic material that has been known to leech toxic materials into the beverages it contains (polystyrene contains benzene, a known human carcinogen). The stuff also takes over 900 years to biodegrade and causes starvation in marine wildlife (polystyrene is one of the most ubiquitous marine pollutants). What’s more, producing polystyrene is a huge energy hog. That adds up to a pretty steep environmental and personal health cost for a “free” cup of coffee.

Next, there was the cost to my newly clean car. After I poured the coffee on the grass, the cup was about to become free-floating garbage in my beleaguered Subaru. This seems like a small cost in the grand scheme of things, I know. But stuff adds up, and it takes a psychic toll (especially if, like me, your car tends to serve manifold functions, including purse/lunch cart/storage unit/roving Dumpster). This cup = more stuff = more psychic toll. (The high number of consumer products produced today also takes an environmental toll. Check out the great interactive video, The Story of Stuff, for a clear-eyed picture of the life cycle of stuff.)

Another cost of my free cup of coffee? My annoyance at my inability to refuse it. I felt like I’d been forced into the free coffee, but in reality, most cases of feeling forced into something are really cases of us having said yes despite our wish to say no. So then I became annoyed with myself for having not stuck to my guns and said no. Then I became doubly annoyed that such a simple thing should be so hard to say no to, and then I became triply annoyed that boundaries and limitations and being clear are such hard things to master. I’m an adult, for goodness sake. How hard is it to set a boundary with the bakery counter guy?

I’ve read that getting better at saying no takes practice (read more on how to say no here), and that the best place to start practicing is in low-stakes settings like, say, a bakery. Sigh. I guess I need more practice. So I’m heading back to the bakery tomorrow, but just in case I still can’t refuse, I’m bringing my own refillable mug. Then, at least, good coffee won’t go to waste.