“Arthur Seymour!”

I jolted my eyes awake as I heard the thundering voice of my beloved Auntie Carla. In my mind, I’ve been spouting curse words as I checked the neon red clock signaling 7:37 AM. My eyelids felt heavy, but the neon digits on the clock kept flashing in the dark, taunting me with every passing minute.

Ever since I received the scholarship from my dream university, the glorious, splendid University of Saint-Louise, I was totally awake the whole night because of the excitement. Finally, I could start fresh without the peering eyes of my oh-so-loving parents, who plan to turn into helicopters from time to time. I was a bird escaping from a small cage, learning to spread its wings and soar high above the sky like it never did.

I shifted my gaze toward the boring, white walls of the room I had moved into before the start of the term. Its lack of personality only added to my agitation.

The jet lag from flying from Manila to Edmonton didn’t help either. My body felt heavy, my mind foggy, as if I were still suspended in the limbo of a transatlantic flight.

“If you do not bring that ass down here for breakfast, I’ll be cutting off your allowance for the whole week! It’s the first day of your semester, for God’s sake!”

Maybe I shouldn’t have spoken too soon about freedom, though. Auntie Carla’s voice stabs my ears and invades my thoughts as though she switches the lights on my reality.

“Coming! I’m coming!” I grumbled as I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and sprawled out of bed. I rummaged through my wardrobe. A beige oversized t-shirt and a pair of slim white jeans caught my eye. I threw them on without much thought. The mirror on the opposite side confirms that the outfit is fine and cool. Looks good enough for breakfast.

I headed towards the shower to fully wake my mind. “I wanna do bad things in here,” I muttered under my breath, a grin on my lips. I shooed the thought aside for later purposes.

“Arthur! How long are you going to get down?” The soundproof shower was no match for Auntie’s bellowing. Hell, what do you expect from a soprano? “On the count of three, I want you down here in the kitchen; one, two—!”

“Three!” I screamed as I zoomed across the railings of the stairway like a rollercoaster. I’m glad enough it didn’t burn my pants, at the very least. Auntie Carla looked at the wall clock and smirked lightly. “Am I in time?”

“A second, but I’ll consider it. You still have 20 minutes to ride your way to Saint-Louise, and I believe I’ll drive your way there once. You’ll need to know your way there thereafter.”

“Affirmative, Your Honor.” Auntie Carla rolled her eyes and drank her everyday coffee.

“Anyways,” she went to the fridge near the kitchen counter and took a green cup before putting it beside my plate of poached eggs and burnt bacon, “Emilia and Johnny told me you take matcha coffee like drugs. So, I took the liberty of going to The Espresso and buying you one. Consider it as my welcome gift, mi hijo.”

I took a glimpse at the foreign substance. I am indeed an aficionado when it comes to matcha coffee or anything matcha in general, but I hate the kind of matcha that is artificially made.

I was caught off-guard with its delicious aroma, inviting me to gobble it up. As the smooth and rich green liquid traveled down my thirsty mouth, I felt a sense of pleasure and calmness like never before. I tasted a hint of bitterness that syncs with the sweetness of the milk. The matcha reminded me of the green veggies that are freshly picked from its trees. It was perfect.

“Where did you say you got this, Auntie?”

“The Espresso Machine; is there something wrong?”

“No. It’s just that . . . it’s the most perfect matcha coffee I’ve ever tasted.”

A genuine smile was stuck on my lips.

After ten minutes of driving downtown, she led us to the entrance of the prestigious university. It is an unbelievable feat that I could even step onto the cobblestones of this magnificent school!

Auntie Carla pulled over to the side and gave me a stern look.

“Arthur Seymour, be a good boy, and—?”

“—don’t go dick-hunting; I know Auntie. I won’t.”

“As you should, my dear.”

She came closer to me and gave my forehead a kiss.

“Auntie, I best believe I got out of senior high to be treated like a kid.”

“Oh, come on; let the old lady have her time. Now, go and get your stupid ass there and make me proud.”

“I will.” I stepped out of her neon yellow car, and she zoomed away to what I believe was her court hearing as an attorney in a random case.

Welcome aboard the university of superior learning.

Now, according to my schedule, I should be in the Business Building . . . hell, wait. Fifth floor? Oh, for God’s sake, please tell me there are elevators here. I have a thing for walking too many stairs as it drains my sweat dry and my clothes wet as if they were newly washed.

According to their website, the Business Building is on the right corner of the campus. I knew I was going to the right place when I saw the words “HOWARD GREEN BUSINESS BUILDING” smack at the top of the entrance. Thank God there is an elevator. As I moved closer to the goal, I dropped dead from what I saw.

“The elevator is under repair. Please use the stairs at the moment. Thank you!”

I am not liking my first day of college already.

As I marched my way helplessly to the stairs, I stepped on a piece of paper on what I initially wanted to use as a napkin for my sweat. It turns out it was the one that took the pain away.

Are you passionate about coffee (especially matcha)? Do you want to join The Espresso Machine as a barista for our new branch opening on the 31st? If you are eager to learn, we want to hear from you! Please email us at hr@tem.ca and tell us why you are the perfect fit for our team. Experience is not required, but enthusiasm is!

Just wait, The Espresso. I’m coming.