“What do you mean it’s twenty dollars extra?!” I asked, fighting and failing not to raise my voice at the woman who I usually bought my roast coffee beans from.
Things had been incredibly frustrating for me recently. Worked overtime at my third job and just when I thought I could catch a break, my second job said they were laying off workers and unfortunately, my name was on the list.
I could have screamed when I saw the crudely written email this morning but I schooled myself into a semblance of calm and trotted to my kitchen cabinet at the corner.
Coffee.
That was the only thing I knew could take my mind off the self-deprecating emotions I felt. Coffee would make it all better. However, I gasped when I shook the tins in the cabinet. Empty. There was nothing there. When had I run out of my special roast coffee?
I traipsed to the local market with the few dollars in my pocket trusting it would be enough. But now as I looked into the bored face of the coffee vendor, I knew I was well and truly doomed.
“Not my fault, dear. You know the rise in the exchange rate.”
I could have hissed at her right then. The coffee was locally sourced. Exchange had nothing to do with it. With my head bowed in defeat, I started the walk back home. Mentally, I counted the days till my next paycheck. Almost two weeks. How would I survive till then?
It happened in a split second. One second I was walking, next I was on the floor. I’d crashed into the paper vendor, knocking one of his papers to the wet ground.
“You’ve got to pay for that,” he said with clenched fists. Frankly, I was in no mood to argue so I gave him a dollar and took the soaked paper back home.
When I got home, I threw it carelessly on my bedside table, causing a part of the soaked paper to rip and fall off. Sighing loudly, I bent to pick it up.
“You already bought it, Kate. At least get the worth of your money,” I muttered dejectedly to myself. Then, a corner of the paper drew my attention. My eyes widened slowly as I read the colourful column. Hissing, I crumpled it and threw it into the trash bin. Rich people truly didn’t have an idea what to do with money. A lifetime supply of Goldbird Coffee to stay in his haunted mansion for one week.
I scoffed. As if anyone would risk his life for...
I paused as the gravity of what was written finally dawned on me.
A lifetime supply of coffee.
Goldbird Coffee. For a lifetime.
Almost diving into the trash bin, I hastily retrieved the ad and carefully arranged it on my table, careful not to rip any part of it. This may as well change my life forever. And if I ever got tired of coffee, although that seemed impossible, I could always sell it. I looked around my dingy, one-bedroom space. All that could change.
Picking up my phone, I dialled the contact on the ad. Taking deep breaths, I waited and hoped someone would answer before I chickened out.
“Good day, this is George Goldbird.” I paused, stifling my gasp. I was talking to The George Goldbird. “Hello?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m Katherine Burn. I’m calling with regard to your ad. I’d like to take on the challenge, Sir.”
He chuckled. “That’s fine. But you would have to join the others in the preliminary contest to decide who gets in.”
“Wait. How many people have applied?”
“You just made the four hundred and thirty-first caller.”
Slowly and without another word, I hung up.
I gave in to the urge and screamed long and loud. Only stopping when I remembered that the Landlord was home and would not entertain in the least my inane temper tantrums. Why did things have to be so freaking hard?? Like who knew people loved coffee so much, that they were willing to stay in a haunted mansion?
Laying back on the bed, I contemplated my next course of action. One week in a haunted house for someone who didn’t watch horror movies was ridiculous thinking on my part. There’s no way I would be able to survive past the first night.
I held my phone again. Or maybe I could survive. That is, after surviving four hundred and thirty other people. Just as I was about to redial Mr. Goldbird’s line, a call came through.
“Hey, Kate.”
“Yeah, who is this?”
There was a little pause. “Your coffee vendor.”
I recognised the voice immediately. “What's wrong?”
She chuckled. “For being a loyal customer, Miss Kate, you’re qualified for a coffee voucher that grants you a year’s worth of coffee supply. Only accessed at my store, of course.”
I was astounded. “Woah. I can’t believe it.”
She chuckled. “Believe it.” And with that, she hung up. After I was able to recover from the shock, I took my sweet time in tearing up the ad.
“Maybe next time,” I said as I whistled out of my house and into the street. Right now, it was time to start claiming my coffee.
Jhymi🖤
