There’s a bunch of cafes in Melbourne’s CBD called Blue Bag, several of which are close to my old office at Crikey. I used to call it “blue balls” because I’m 12. It sells pre-packed sandwiches, salads, soups and coffee (and by “coffee”, Americans, I mean “espresso”). At some point, the owners created these reusable plastic coffee cups called KeepCups that were shaped like paper coffee cups, so they fit under the espresso grouphead and kept your coffee warm. This was a good thing, because we went through an embarrassing amount of paper cups. So we all bought one, and every day, we would send the intern off to get coffee with our KeepCups, smug with non-Earth-destroying satisfaction.
Like most of my things, I left my KeepCup behind in Melbourne. And for a long time, I didn’t think of it, because I was mostly drinking coffee in cafes.
Then when I went to London, I stopped for coffee in an Aussie/New Zealand-run cafe called Flat White (it’s named after an espresso drink in Australia and New Zealand; it’s kind of a cross between a latte and a cappuccino) and, lo and behold, it was selling KeepCups. “Wouldn’t it be funny to have a cup with ‘Flat White’ written on it?” I thought, because smart arse baristas in the US are always saying, “Aha, do you want a flat white?” (No, I want the drink I ordered….) So I bought one and brought it back.
Then like a week later I lost it.
I was annoyed but didn’t really think much about it until three things happened: 1. I started working in an office 2. There are no decent coffee shops within walking distance of my office so I was often riding to work with one hand on the handlebars and the other holding a coffee, so one of my workmates bought me a coffee-cup holder for my bike, but it was too big for the average sized espresso cup, and 3. Some friends from Melbourne came to Portland and brought their KeepCups with them and used them everywhere and I was jealous.
By that point, just two years after that little Melbourne cafe started selling colourful plastic coffee cups, they were being sold all over the world. You could buy them at the Whole Foods across the road from our apartment and you could buy them on Amazon. But I wanted my Flat White one. Fortunately, The Boy was going to London for work, so I wrote down the address and gave him instructions.
A few weeks later, he returned home with a Flat White cup. Even better, he had told the barista the story, and they’d thrown in a free coffee next time I’m in London. Even better, it fits perfectly in my bike’s coffee cup holder.
Now I can buy a good coffee in the morning and carry it on my handlebars to work. Like a total wanker.
