My Kingdom for a Coffee

I had my early class again this morning and I just can't understand what on earth made me think that 8:00 am on Friday was an acceptable time to learn. Despite getting a good night's sleep, I was feeling slightly less than bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as I headed out the door and made my way to campus. As a result, I suddenly found myself desperately craving that shining example of American ingenuity: take-out coffee.

I adore Caribou Coffee, have taken a liking to Starbucks, and when feeling desperate will settle for Dunkin Donuts. Of these three, Starbucks alone has made its entry into the Parisian landscape. While not nearly as prolific as they are in large American cities, that little green circle is no longer an unusual site here. Unfortunately for me, there are no to-go coffee houses on my route to Sciences Po. There isn't even a campus coffee shop that offers such a service. Oh how I longed for the Davenport Coffee Lounge, a great student-run shop in the School of International Service building at AU. Grabbing one of their 75 cent hot teas (yes, you read that price correctly) had become a pre-class ritual. Alas, with no Davenport in sight, I was left to endure the avoidable tragedy of un-medicated drowsiness.

I know what you're thinking: "Why would you crave take-out, suger-infused American coffee when there are so many great cafés to enjoy in Paris?" Well, you're right. There are countless great cafés in Paris and I assure you that I do enjoy them. I enjoy many of the specialties that are unique to France and have hardly craved specialties from home at all. There's not much time left for missing cheeseburgers when there are endless varieties of pastry to be had. Nevertheless, I couldn't deny that on this particular morning, I would have given anything for an American coffee shop. Culinary delights of Paris notwithstanding, sometimes a girl just needs a skinny, no-foam, double-shot, mocha latté, on the fly, and with a side of blueberry muffin.