Necklace: Forever21 (similar)
Today, I am sorry to say that I have a sad story for you all. It is a story of pain and dread, a story of shame and regret. Yet still, somewhere in my heart of hearts, I believe that it is also a story of hope.
I rarely buy or drink coffee. I do however go to Starbucks on a regular basis to meet up with friends and clients. So, last week when I again found myself sitting in Starbucks for a meetup, I suddenly felt bad for never giving back to the establishment that I so often frequent. As a result of this feeling (and to make it go away), I bought myself a Mocha Frappuccino, because while I don’t usually get down with the bitter flavor of coffee, I can, now and then, force down a caffeinated beverage that tastes more like a milkshake and is covered in whipped-cream. Truth be told, I would have preferred a whole cup of whipped-cream, but I was too ashamed to order it.
Later on in the evening, all was going well. I was chatting and knitting away with friends while sipping my, “I now feel less guilty about sitting here” fancy coffee drink. And then it happened. Just before my last sip, a dollop of frozen chocolaty coffee somehow defied the laws of gravity, jumped out of my cup, and into my lap, right on my beautiful white shirt. If shirts can feel pain, I’m sure this one was screaming in agony. As I dabbed my blouse with a brown entersomenumberhere% recycled paper Starbucks napkin, I immediately regretted my decision to not order a whole cup of white, nonstaining, whipped topping.
Today, as I apply bleach and other cleaning solutions to this top, please join with me in hoping that laundry miracles can happen… And if you feel so inclined, order a cup of whipped-cream from Starbucks today in memory of this poor blouse… Hey, it’s for a good cause, you should probably do it.
-The Painful Shameful Kelley